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THE    NOFELS   OF  JANE   AUSTEN 


.  .NORTHANGER 

ABBEY. 

^  ' 

BY 

JANE    AUSTEN 

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BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,   AND   COMPANY 

1903 


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NZRAI. 


Copyright,  1892, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 


^Enibersttg  press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A, 


NORTHANGER    ABBEY,    /^^x 


CHAPTEE  I. 


0  one  who  had  ever  seen  Catherine  Mor- 
land  in  her  infaucj^  would  have  sup- 
posed her  born  to  he  a  heroine.  Her 
situation  in  life,  the  character  of  her 
father  and  mother,  her  own  person  and  disposition, 
were  all  equally  against  her.  Her  father  was  a 
clergyman,  without  being  neglected  or  poor,  and 
a  very  respectable  man,  though  his  name  was 
E-ichard,  —  and  he  had  never  been  handsome.  He 
had  a  considerable  independence,  besides  two  good 
livings;  and  he  was  not  in  the  least  addicted  to 
locking  up  his  daughters.  Her  mother  was  a 
woman  of  useful,  plain  sense,  with  a  good  temper, 
and,  what  is  more  remarkable,  with  a  good  consti- 
tution. She  had  three  sons  before  Catherine  was 
born;  and  instead  of  dying  in  bringing  the  latter 
into  the  world,  as  anybody  might  expect,  she  still 
lived  on,  —  lived  to  have  six  children  more,  to 
see  them    growing   up    around  her,  and   to   enjoy 


.^  i:  ''.'".  •''  'HORTHANGiJE  ABBEY. 

t^z  '^ '  •'  'r  '/ ;''.'':'...;  /• ', » . .' 

excellent  health  herself.  A  family  of  ten  chil- 
dren will  be  always  called  a  fine  family,  where 
there  are  heads  and  arms  and  legs  enough  for  the 
number;  but  the  Morlands  had  little  other  right 
to  the  word,  for  they  were  in  general  very  plain, 
and  Catherine,  for  many  years  of  her  life,  as  plain 
as  any.  She  had  a  thin,  awkward  figure,  a  sallow 
skin  without  color,  dark,  lank  hair,  and  strong  feat- 
ures,—  so  much  for  her  person.  And  not  less 
unpropitious  for  heroism  seemed  her  mind.  She 
was  fond  of  all  boys'  plays,  and  greatly  preferred 
cricket,  not  merely  to  dolls,  but  to  the  more  heroic 
enjoyments  of  infancy,  —  nursing  a  dormouse, 
feeding  a  canary-bird,  or  watering  a  rose-bush.  In- 
deed, she  had  no  taste  for  a  garden;  and  if  she 
gathered  flowers  at  all,  it  was  chiefly  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  mischief, — at  least  so  it  was  conjectured, 
from  her  always  preferring  those  which  she  was 
forbidden  to  take.  Such  were  her  propensities. 
Her  abilities  were  quite  as  extraordinary.  She 
never  could  learn  or  understand  anything  before 
she  was  taught;  and  sometimes  not  even  then,  for 
she  was  often  inattentive  and  occasionally  stupid. 
Her  mother  was  three  months  in  teaching  her  only 
to  repeat  the  *^ Beggar's  Petition;"  and  after  all, 
her  next  sister,  Sally,  could  say  it  better  than  she 
did.  Not  that  Catherine  was  always  stupid, —  by 
no  means:  she  learnt  the  fable  of  ^^The  Hare  and 
many  Eriends  "  as  quickly  as  any  girl  in  England. 
Her  mother  wished  her  to  learn  music;  and  Cath- 
erine was  sure  she  should  like  it,  for  she  was  very 
fond  of  tinkling  the  keys  of  the  old  forlorn  spin- 
net;  so,  at  eight  years  old,  she  began.     She  learnt 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  7 

a  year,  and  could  not  bear  it;  and  Mrs.  Morland, 
who  did  not  insist  on  her  daughters  being  accom- 
plished in  spite  of  incapacity  or  distaste,  allowed 
her  to  leave  off.  The  day  which  dismissed  the 
music-master  was  one  of  the  happiest  of  Catherine's 
life.  Her  taste  for  drawing  was  not  superior; 
though  whenever  she  could  obtain  the  outside  of  a 
letter  from  her  mother,  or  seize  upon  any  other 
odd  piece  of  paper,  she  did  what  she  could  in  that 
way,  by  drawing  houses  and  trees,  hens  and  chick- 
ens, all  very  much  like  one  another.  Writing  and 
accounts  she  was  taught  by  her  father;  French  by 
her  mother :  her  proficiency  in  either  was  not  remark- 
able, and  she  shirked  her  lessons  in  both  whenever 
she  could.  What  a  strange,  unaccountable  charac- 
ter!—  for  with  all  these  symptoms  of  profligacy  at 
ten  years  old,  she  had  neither  a  bad  heart  nor  a 
bad  temper;  was  seldom  stubborn,  scarcely  ever 
quarrelsome,  and  very  kind  to  the  little  ones, 
with  few  interruptions  of  tyranny;  she  was  more- 
over noisy  and  wild,  hated  confinement  and  cleanli- 
ness, and  loved  nothing  so  well  in  the  world  as 
rolling  down  the  green  slope  at  the  back  of  the 
house. 

Such  was  Catherine  Morland  at  ten.  At  fifteen, 
appearances  were  mending;  she  began  to  curl  her 
hair,  and  long  for  balls;  her  complexion  improved, 
her  features  were  softened  by  plumpness  and  color, 
her  eyes  gained  more  animation,  and  her  figure 
more  consequence.  Her  love  of  dirt  gave  way  to 
an  inclination  for  finery,  and  she  grew  clean  as  she 
grew  smart ;  she  had  now  the  pleasure  of  sometimes 
hearing  her  father  and  mother  remark  on  her  per- 


8  NORTHANGEU  ABBEY. 

sonal  improvement.  '^Catlierine  grows  quite  a 
good-looking  girl, —  she  is  almost  pretty  to-day," 
were  words  which  caught  her  ears  now  and  then; 
and  how  welcome  were  the  sounds!  To  look  al- 
most  pretty  is  an  acquisition  of  higher  delight  to 
a  girl  who  has  been  looking  plain  the  first  fifteen 
years  of  her  life  than  a  beauty  from  her  cradle  can 
ever  receive. 

Mrs.  Morland  was  a  very  good  woman,  and 
wished  to  see  her  children  everything  they  ought 
to  be ;  but  her  time  was  so  much  occupied  in  lying- 
in,  and  teaching  the  little  ones,  that  her  elder 
daughters  were  inevitably  left  to  shift  for  them- 
selves ;  and  it  was  not  very  wonderful  that  Cather- 
ine, who  had  by  nature  nothing  heroic  about  her, 
should  prefer  cricket,  base-ball,  riding  on  horse- 
back, and  running  about  the  countr}^,  at  the  age  of 
fourteen,  to  books,  —  or  at  lea^t  books  of  informa- 
tion ;  for,  provided  that  nothing  like  useful  knowl- 
edge could  be  gained  from  them,  provided  they 
were  all  story  and  no  reflection,  she  had  never  any 
objection  to  books  at  all.  But  from  fifteen  to 
seventeen  she  was  in  training  for  a  heroine;  she 
read  all  such  works  as  heroines  must  read  to  sup- 
ply their  memories  with  those  quotations  which  are 
so  serviceable  and  so  soothing  in  the  vicissitudes 
of  their  eventful  lives. 

From  Pope,  she  learnt  to  censure  those  who 

**  Bear  about  the  mockery  ot  woe." 


From  Gray,  that 


"  Many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 

And  waste  its  fragrance  on  the  desert  air." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  9 

From  Thomson,  that 

"  It  is  a  delightful  task 
To  teach  the  youug  idea  how  to  shoot." 

And  from  Shakspeare   she   gained  a  great  store   of 
information;  amongst  the  rest,  that 

"  Trifles,  light  as  air, 
Are  to  the  jealous  coufirmation  strong 
As  proofs  of  Holy  Writ." 
That 

"  The  poor  beetle,  which  we  tread  upon, 
In  corporal  sufferance  feels  a  paug  as  great 
As  when  a  giaut  dies.'* 

And  that  a  young  woman  in  love  always  looks 

"  Like  Patience  on  a  monument 
Smiling  at  Grief." 

So  far  her  improvement  was  sufficient,  —  and  in 
many  other  points  she  came  on  exceedingly  well ; 
for  though  she  could  not  write  sonnets,  she  brought 
herself  to  read  them;  and  though  there  seemed 
no  chance  of  her  throwing  a  whole  party  into  rap- 
tures by  a  prelude  on  the  pianoforte  of  her  own 
composition,  she  could  listen  to  other  people's  per- 
formance with  very  little  fatigue.  Her  greatest 
deficiency  was  in  the  pencil ;  she  had  no  notion  of 
drawing,  —  not  enough  even  to  attempt  a  sketch  of 
her  lover's  profile,  that  she  might  be  detected  in 
the  design.  There  she  fell  miserably  short  of  the 
true  heroic  height.  At  present  she  did  not  know 
her  own  poverty,  for  she  had  no  lover  to  portray. 
She  had  reached  the  age  of  seventeen  without  hav- 
ing seen  one  amiable  youth  who  could  call  forth 
her  sensibilit}^,  without  having  inspired  one  real 
passion,  and  without  having  excited  even  any  admi- 


10  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

ration  but  what  was  very  moderate  and  very  tran- 
sient. This  was  strange  indeed  !  But  strange 
things  may  be  generally  accounted  for  if  their 
cause  be  fairly  searched  out.  There  was  not  one 
lord  in  the  neighborhood;  no,  not  even  a  baronet. 
There  was  not  one  family  among  their  acquaint- 
ance who  had  reared  and  supported  a  boy  acciden- 
tally found  at  their  door,  not  one  young  man 
whose  origin  was  unknown.  Her  father  had  no 
ward,  and  the  squire  of  the  parish  no  children. 

But  when  a  young  lady  is  to  be  a  heroine,  the 
perverseness  of  forty  surrounding  families  cannot 
prevent  her.  Something  must  and  will  happen  to 
throw  a  hero  in  her  way. 

Mr.  Allen,  who  owned  the  chief  of  the  property 
about  Fullerton,  the  village  in  Wiltshire  where  the 
Morlands  lived,  was  ordered  to  Bath  for  the  benefit 
of  a  gouty  constitution;  and  his  lady,  a  good- 
humored  woman,  fond  of  Miss  Morland,  and  prob- 
ably aware  that  if  adventures  will  not  befall  a 
young  lady  in  her  own  village,  she  must  seek  them 
abroad,  invited  her  to  go  with  them.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Morland  were  all  compliance,  and  Catherine 
all  happiness. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  11 


CHAPTER  II. 

In  addition  to  what  has  been  already  said  of 
Catherine  Morland's  personal  and  mental  endow- 
ments when  about  to  be  launched  into  all  the 
difficulties  and  dangers  of  a  six  weeks'  residence 
in  Bath,  it  may  be  stated,  for  the  reader's  more 
certain  information,  lest  the  following  pages  should 
otherwise  fail  of  giving  an}'-  idea  of  what  her  charac- 
ter is  meant  to  be,  that  her  heart  was  affectionate, 
her  disposition  cheerful  and  open,  without  conceit  or 
affectation  of  any  kind,  —  her  manners  just  removed 
from  the  awkwardness  and  shjmess  of  a  girl ;  her 
person  pleasing,  and,  when  in  good  looks,  prett}^; 
and  her  mind  about  as  ignorant  and  uninformed 
as  the  female  mind  at  seventeen  usually  is. 

When  the  hour  of  departure  drew  near,  the  ma- 
ternal anxiety  of  Mrs.  Morland  will  be  naturally 
supposed  to  be  most  severe.  A  thousand  alarm- 
ing presentiments  of  evil  to  her  beloved  Catherine 
from  this  terrific  separation  must  oppress  her 
heart  with  sadness,  and  drown  her  in  tears  for  the 
last  day  or  two  of  their  being  together;  and  advice 
of  the  most  important  and  applicable  nature  must 
of  course  flow  from  her  wise  lips  in  their  parting 
conference  in  her  closet.  Cautions  against  the 
violence  of  such  noblemen  and  baronets  as  delight 
in  forcing  young  ladies  away  to  some  remote  farm- 
house must,  at  such  a  moment,  relieve  the  fulness 


12  NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 

of  her  heart.  Who  would  not  think  so?  But  Mrs. 
Morland  knew  so  little  of  lords  and  baronets  that 
she  entertained  no  notion  of  their  general  mis- 
chievousness,  and  was  wholly  unsuspicious  of  dan- 
ger to  her  daughter  from  their  machinations.  Her 
cautions  were  confined  to  the  following  points:  ''I 
beg,  Catherine,  you  will  always  wrap  yourself  up 
very  warm  about  the  throat  when  you  come  from  the 
E-ooms  at  night;  and  I  wish  you  would  try  to  keep 
some  account  of  the  money  you  spend,  —  I  will 
give  you  this  little  book  on  purpose.'' 

Sally,  or  rather  Sarah  (for  what  young  lady  of 
common  gentility  will  reach  the  age  of  sixteen 
without  altering  her  name  as  far  as  she  can?)  must 
from  situation  be  at  this  time  the  intimate  friend 
and  confidante  of  her  sister.  It  is  remarkable, 
however,  that  she  neither  insisted  on  Catherine's 
writing  by  every  post,  nor  exacted  her  promise  of 
transmitting  the  character  of  every  new  acquaint- 
ance, nor  a  detail  of  every  interesting  conversation 
that  Bath  might  produce.  Everything  indeed 
relative  to  this  important  journey  was  done  on  the 
part  of  the  Morlands  with  a  degree  of  moderation 
^nd  composure  which  seemed  rather  consistent  with 
the  common  feelings  of  common  life  than  with 
refined  susceptibilities,  the  tender  emotions  which 
the  first  separation  of  a  heroine  from  her  family 
ought  always  to  excite.  Her  father,  instead  of 
giving  her  an  unlimited  order  on  his  banker,  or 
even  putting  a  hundred  pounds  bank-bill  into  her 
hands,  gave  her  only  ten  guineas,  and  promised 
her  more  when  she  wanted  it. 

Under  these  unpromising  auspices   the  parting 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  13 

took  place  and  the  journey  began.  It  was  per- 
formed with  suitable  quietness  and  uneventful 
safety.  Neither  robbers  nor  tempests  befriended 
them,  nor  one  lucky  overturn  to  Introduce  them  to 
the  hero.  Nothing  more  alarming  occurred  than  a 
fear,  on  Mrs.  Allen's  side,  of  having  once  left  her 
clogs  behind  her  at  an  inn,  and  that  fortunately 
proved  to  be  groundless. 

They  arrived  at  Bath.  Catherine  was  all  eager 
delight;  her* eyes  were  here,  there,  everywhere, 
as  they  approached  its  fine  and  striking  environs, 
and  afterwards  drove  through  those  streets  which 
conducted  them  to  the  hotel.  She  was  come  to  be 
happy,  and  she  felt  happy  already. 

They  were  soon  settled  in  comfortable  lodgings 
in  Pulteney  Street. 

It  is  now  expedient  to  give  some  description  of 
Mrs.  Allen,  that  the  reader  may  be  able  to  judge 
in  what  manner  her  actions  will  hereafter  tend 
to  promote  the  general  distress  of  the  work,  and 
how  she  will  probably  contribute  to  reduce  poor 
Catherine  to  all  the  desperate  wretchedness  of 
which  a  last  volume  is  capable,  — whether  by 
her  imprudence,  vulgarity,  or  jealousy,  —  whether 
by  intercepting  her  letters,  ruining  her  character, 
or  turning  her  out   of   doors. 

Mrs.  Allen  was  one  of  that  numerous  class  of 
females  whose  society  can  raise  no  other  emotion 
than  surprise  at  there  being  any  men  in  the  world 
who  could  like  them  well  enough  to  marry  them. 
She  had  neither  beauty,  genius,  accomplishment, 
nor  manner.  The  air  of  a  gentlewoman,  a  great 
deal  of  quiet,  inactive  good  temper,  and  a  trifling 


14  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

turn  of  mind  were  all  that  could  account  for  her 
being  the  choice  of  a  sensible,  intelligent  man,  like 
Mr.  Allen.  In  one  respect  she  was  admirably 
fitted  to  introduce  a  young  lady  into  public,  being 
as  fond  of  going  everywhere  and  seeing  everything 
herself  as  any  young  lady  could  be.  Dress  was 
her  passion.  She  had  a  most  harmless  delight  in 
being  fine;  and  our  heroine's  entree  into  life  could 
not  take  place  till  after  three  or  four  days  had  been 
spent  in  learning  what  was  mostly  worn,  and  her 
chaperon  was  provided  with  a  dress  of  the  newest 
fashion.  Catherine,  too,  made  some  purchases 
herself;  and  when  all  these  matters  were  arranged, 
the  important  evening  came  which  was  to  usher  her 
into  the  Upper  Rooms.  Her  hair  was  cut  and 
dressed  by  the  best  hand,  her  clothes  put  on  with 
care,  and  both  Mrs.  Allen  and  her  maid  declared 
she  looked  quite  as  she  should  do.  With  such 
encouragement,  Catherine  hoped  at  least  to  pass 
uncensured  through  the  crowd.  As  for  admiration, 
it  was  always  very  welcome  when  it  came;  but  she 
did  not  depend  on  it. 

Mrs.  Allen  was  so  long  in  dressing  that  they 
did  not  enter  the  ball-room  till  late.  The  season 
was  full,  the  room  crowded,  and  the  two  ladies 
squeezed  in  as  well  as  they  could.  As  for  Mr. 
Allen,  he  repaired  directly  to  the  card-room,  and 
left  them  to  enjoy  a  mob  by  themselves.  With 
more  care  for  the  safety  of  her  new  gown  than  for  the 
comfort  of  her  prot^g^e,  Mrs.  Allen  made  her  way 
through  the  throng  of  men  by  the  door  as  swiftly 
as  the  necessary  caution  would  allow;  Catherine, 
however,    kept   close  at   her  side,  and  linked  her 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  15 

arm  too  firmly  within  her  friend's  to  be  torn 
asunder  by  any  common  effort  of  a  struggling 
assembly.  But,  to  her  utter  amazement,  she  found 
that  to  proceed  along  the  room  was  oy  no  means 
the  way  to  disengage  themselves  from  the  crowd: 
it  seemed  rather  to  increase  as  they  went  on; 
whereas  she  had  imagined  that  when  once  fairly 
within  the  door,  they  should  easily  find  seats,  and 
be  able  to  watch  the  dances  with  perfect  conven- 
ience. But  this  was  far  from  being  the  case;  and 
though  by  unwearied  diligence  they  gained  even 
the  top  of  the  room,  their  situation  was  just  the 
same:  they  saw  nothing  of  the  dancers,  but  the 
high  feathers  of  some  of  the  ladies.  Still  they 
moved  on, — something  better  was  yet  in  view; 
and  by  a  continued  exertion  of  strength  and 
ingenuity  they  found  themselves  at  last  in  the 
passage  behind  the  highest  bench.  Here  there 
was  something  less  of  crowd  than  below;  and  hence 
Miss  Morland  had  a  comprehensive  view  of  all  the 
company  beneath  her,  and  of  all  the  dangers  of  her 
late  passage  through  them.  It  was  a  splendid 
sight;  and  she  began,  for  the  first  time  that  even- 
ing, to  feel  herself  at  a  ball.  She  longed  to  dance, 
but  she  had  not  an  acquaintance  in  the  room. 
Mrs.  Allen  did  all  that  she  could  do  in  such  a 
case  by  saying  very  placidly  every  now  and  then, 
^'I  wish  you  could  dance,  my  dear;  I  wish  yon 
could  get  a  partner."  For  some  time  her  young 
friend  felt  obliged  to  her  for  these  wishes;  but  they 
were  repeated  so  often,  and  proved  so  totally 
ineffectual,  that  Catherine  grew  tired  at  last,  and 
would  thank  her  no  more. 


16  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

They  were  not  long  able,  however,  to  enjoy  the 
repose  of  tlie  eminence  they  had  so  laboriously 
gained.  Everybody  was  shortly  in  motion  for 
tea,  and  they  must  squeeze  out  like  the  rest. 
Catherine  began  to  feel  something  of  disappoint- 
ment: she  was  tired  of  being  continually  pressed 
against  by  people,  the  generality  of  whose  faces 
possessed  nothing  to  interest,  and  with  all  of  whom 
she  was  so  wholly  unacquainted  that  she  could  not 
relieve  the  irksomeness  of  imprisonment  by  the 
exchange  of  a  syllable  with  any  of  her  fellow- 
captives;  and  when  at  last  arrived  in  the  tea- 
room, she  felt  yet  more  the  awkwardness  of  hav- 
ing no  party  to  join,  no  acquaintance  to  claim,  no 
gentleman  to  assist  them.  They  saw  nothing  of 
Mr.  Allen;  and  after  looking  about  them  in  vain 
for  a  more  eligible  situation,  were  obliged  to  sit 
down  at  the  end  of  a  table,  at  which  a  large  party 
were  already  placed,  without  having  anything  to  do 
there,  or  anybody  to  speak  to  except  each  other. 
"  Mrs.  Allen  congratulated  herself,  as  soon  as 
they  were  seated,  on  having  preserved  her  gown 
from  injury.  *^  It  would  have  been  very  shocking 
to  have  it  torn,"  said  she,  ^' would  not  it  ?  It  is 
such  a  delicate  muslin.  For  my  part,  I  have  not 
seen  anything  I  like  so  well  in  the  whole  room,  I 
assure  you." 

"How  uncomfortable  it  is,"  whispered  Cather- 
ine, ''  not  to  have  a  single  acquaintance  here  !  " 

''Yes,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Allen,  with  per- 
fect serenity,   "it  is  very  uncomfortable  indeed." 

"What  shall  we  do?     The  gentlemen    and  la- 
dies at  this  table  look  as  if  they  wondered  why  we 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  17 

came  here:  we  seem  forcing  ourselves  into    tlieir 
party/' 

'*Ay,  so  we  do.  That  is  very  disagreeable. 
'I  wish  we  had  a  large  acquaintance  here." 

*'I  wish  we  had  any:  it  would  be  somebody 
to  go  to." 

*'Very  true,  my  dear;  and  if  we  knew  any- 
body, we  would  join  them  directly.  The  Skin- 
ners were  here  last  year.  I  wish  they  were 
here    now." 

* '  Had  not  we  better  go  away,  as  it  is  ?  Here 
are  no  tea-things  for  us,   you  see." 

^^iSTo  more  there  are,    indeed.     How  very   pro- 
voking!    But  I  think  w^e  had  better  sit  still,  for 
one  gets  so  tumbled  in  such  a  crowd!     How  is  my 
head,  my  dear?     Somebody   gave  me  a  push  that 
vhas  hurt  it,   I  am  afraid." 

^  '^No,  indeed,  it  looks  very  nice.  But,  dear 
Mrs.  Allen,  are  you  sure  there  is  nobody  you 
know  in  all  this  multitude  of  people?  I  think 
you  must  know  somebody." 

^'1  don't,  upon  my  word.  I  wish  I  did.  I 
wish  I  had  a  large  acquaintance  here  with  all  my 
heart,  and  then  I  should  get  you  a  partner.  I 
should  be  so  glad  to  have  you  dance.  There  goes 
a  strange-looking  woman!  What  an  odd  gown 
she  has  got  on!  How  old-fashioned  it  is!  Look 
at  the  back." 

After  some  time  they  received  an  offer  of  tea 
from  one  of  their  neighbors.  It  was  thankfully 
accepted;  and  this  introduced  a  light  conversation 
with  the  gentleman  who  offered  it,  which  was  the 
only  time  that  an^^body  spoke  to  them  during  the 


18  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

evening,  till  they  were  discovered  and  joined  by 
Mr.  Allen  when  the  dance  was  over. 

^^Well,  Miss  Morland/'  said  he,  directly,  ''1 
hope  you  have  had  an  agreeable  ball." 

^^Very  agreeable,  indeed,"  she  replied,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  hide  a  great  yawn. 

'*I  wish  she  had  been  able  to  dance,"  said  his 
wife  ]  "^  wish  we  could  have  got  a  partner  for 
her.  I  have  been  saying  how  glad  I  should  be  if 
the  Skinners  were  here  this  winter,  instead  of  last; 
or  if  the  Parrys  had  come,  as  they  talked  of  once, 
she  might  have  danced  with  George  Parry.  I  am 
so  sorry  she  has  not  had  a  partner !  " 

^*  We  shall  do  better  another  evening,  I  hope/' 
was  Mr.  Allen's  consolation. 

The  company  began  to  disperse  when  the  dan- 
cing was  over,  —  enough  to  leave  space  for  the  re- 
mainder to  walk  about  in  some  comfort;  and  now 
was  the  time  for  a  heroine  who  had  not  yet 
played  a  very  distinguished  part  in  the  events  of 
the  evening,  to  be  noticed  and  admired.  Every 
five  minutes,  by  removing  some  of  the  crowd,  gave 
greater  openings  for  her  charms.  She  was  now 
seen  by  many  young  men  who  had  not  been  near 
her  before.  Not  one,  however,  started  with  rap- 
turous wonder  on  beholding  her,  no  whisper  of 
eager  inquiry  ran  round  the  room,  nor  was  she 
once  called  a  divinity  by  anybody.  Yet  Cather- 
ine was  in  very  good  looks,  and,  had  the  company 
only  seen  her  three  years  before,  the}'-  would  now 
have  thought  her  exceedingly  handsome. 

She  was  looked  at,  however,  and  with  some 
admiration;  for  in    her  own  hearing    two  gentle- 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  19 

men  pronounced  her  to  be  a  pretty  girl.  Such 
words  had  their  due  effect:  she  immediately 
thought  the  evening  pleasanter  than  she  had 
found  it  before;  her  humble  vanity  was  con- 
tented; she  felt  more  obliged  to  the  two  young 
men  for  this  simple  praise  than  a  true  quality 
heroine  would  have  been  for  fifteen  sonnets  in  cel- 
ebration of  her  charms ;  and  went  to  her  chair  in 
good  humor  with  everybody,  and  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  her  share  of  public  attention. 


20  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

Every  morning  now  brought  its  regular  duties: 
shops  were  to  be  visited;  some  new  part  of  the 
town  to  be  looked  at;  and  the  Pump-room  to  be 
attended,  where  they  paraded  up  and  down  for  an 
hour,  looking  at  everybody  and  speaking  to  no 
one.  The  wish  of  a  numerous  acquaintance  in 
Bath  was  still  uppermost  with  Mrs.  Allen;  and 
she  repeated  it  after  every  fresh  proof,  which 
every  morning  brought,  of  her  knowing  nobody 
at  all. 

They  made  their  appearance  in  the  Lower 
Booms;  and  here  fortune  was  more  favorable  to 
our  heroine.  The  master  of  the  ceremonies  intro- 
duced to  her  a  very  gentlemanlike  young  man  as 
a  partner.  His  name  was  Tilney.  He  seemed  to 
be  about  four  or  five  and  twenty,  was  rather  tall, 
had  a  pleasing  countenance,  a  very  intelligent  and 
lively  eye,  and,  if  not  quite  handsome,  was  very 
near  it.  His  address  was  good,  and  Catherine 
felt  herself  in  high  luck.  There  was  little  leisure 
for  speaking  while  they  danced;  but  when  they 
were  seated  at  tea,  she  found  him  as  agreeable  as 
she  had  already  given  him  credit  for  being.  He 
talked  with  fluency  and  spirit;  and  there  was  an 
archness  and  pleasantry  in  his  manner  which  in- 
terested, though  it  was  hardly  understood  by  her. 
After  chatting  some  time  on  such  matters  as  nat- 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  21 

urally  arose  from  the  objects  around  them,  he 
suddenly  addressed  her  with:  '^I  have  hitherto 
been  very  remiss,  madam,  in  the  proper  attentions 
of  a  partner  here.  I  have  not  yet  asked  you  how 
long  you  have  been  in  Bath;  whether  you  were 
ever  here  before;  whether  you  have  been  at  the 
Upper  Rooms,  the  theatre,  and  the  concert;  and 
how  ycu  like  the  place  altogether.  I  have  been 
very  negligent ;  but  are  you  now  at  leisure  to  sat- 
isfy me  in  these  particulars?  If  you  are,  I  will 
begin  directly?  " 

*'  You  need  not  give  yourself  that  trouble,  sir.'' 

*' No  trouble,  I  assure  you,  madam."  Then, 
forming  his  features  into  a  set  smile,  and  affect- 
edl}^  softening  his  voice,  he  added,  with  a  simper- 
ing air,  ''Have  you  been  long  in  Bath,  madam?" 

''About  a  week,  sir,"  replied  Catherine,  trying 
not  to  laugh. 

"Eeally!"  with  affected  astonishment. 

'''Why  should  you  be  surprised,   sir?" 

"Why,  indeed?  "said  he,  in  his  natural  tone; 
"but  some  emotion  must  appear  to  be  raised  by 
your  reply,  and  surprise  is  more  easily  assumed, 
and  not  less  reasonable,  than  any  other.  Now 
let  us  go  on.  V/ere  you  never  here  before, 
madam?  " 

"Never,   sir." 

"Indeed!  Have  you  yet  honored  the  Upper 
Rooms?" 

"Yes,  sir;  I  was  tliere  last  Monday." 

"Have  you  been  to  the  theatre?" 

*^  Yes,  sir;  I  was  at  the  play  on  Tuesday." 

"To  the  concert?" 


22  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

''Yes,   sir;  on  Wednesday." 

''And  are  you  altogether  pleased  with  Bath?  '* 

"Yes;  I  like  it  very  well." 

"  Now  I  must  give  one  smirk,  and  then  we  may 
be  rational  again." 

Catherine  turned  away  her  head,  not  knowing 
whether  she  might  venture  to  laugh. 

"I  see  what  you  think  of  me,"  said  he, 
gravely:  "  I  shall  make  but  a  poor  figure  in  your 
journal  to-morrow." 

"My  journal!" 

"Yes;  I  know  exactly  what  you  will  say: 
'Friday  went  to  the  Lower  Booms;  wore  my 
sprigged  muslin  robe  with  blue  trimmings,  plain 
black  shoes,  —  appeared  to  much  advantage ; 
but  was  strangely  harassed  by  a  queer,  half-witted 
man,  who  would  make  me  dance  with  him,  and 
distressed  me  by  his  nonsense.'  " 

"Indeed  I  shall  say  no  such  thing." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  you  ought  to  say?  " 

"If  you  please." 

"I  danced  with  a  very  agreeable  young  man, 
introduced  by  Mr.  King;  had  a  great  deal  of  con- 
versation with  him;  seems  a  most  extraordinary 
genius;  hope  I  may  know  more  of  him.  That, 
madam,  is  what  I  wish  you  to  say." 

"But  perhaps  I  keep  no  journal." 

"Perhaps  you  are  not  sitting  in  this  room,  and 
I  am  not  sitting  by  you.  These  are  points  in 
which  a  doubt  is  equally  possible.  Not  keep  a 
journal!  How  are  your  absent  cousins  to  under- 
stand the  tenor  of  your  life  in  Bath  without  one  ? 
How  are  the  civilities  and  compliments  of  every 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  23 

day  to  be  related  as  they  ought  to  be,  unless  noted 
down  every  evening  in  a  journal?  How  are  your 
various  dresses  to  be  remembered,  and  the  particu- 
lar state  of  your  complexion  and  curl  of  your  hair 
to  be  described,  in  all  their  diversities,  without 
having  constant  recourse  to  a  journal?  My  dear 
madam,  I  am  not  so  ignorant  of  young  ladies' 
ways  as  you  wish  to  believe  me.  It  is  this  de- 
lightful habit  of  journalizing  which  largely  con- 
tributes to  form  the  easy  style  of  writing  for  which 
ladies  are  so  generally  celebrated.  Everybody 
allows  that  the  talent  of  writing  agreeable  letters 
is  peculiarly  female.  Nature  may  have  done  some- 
thing; but  I  am  sure  it  must  be  essentially  assisted 
by  the  practice  of  keeping  a  journal.'' 

^*I  have  sometimes  thought,"  said  Catherine, 
doubtingl}^,  "whether  ladies  do  write  so  much 
better  letters  than  gentlemen.  That  is,  I  should 
not  think  the  superiority  was  always  on  our 
side." 

''As  far  as  I  have  had  opportunity  of  judging, 
it  appears  to  me  that  the  usual  style  of  letter- 
writing  among  women  is  faultless,  except  in  three 
particulars." 

''  And  what  are  they?  " 

''A  general  deficiency  of  subject,  a  total  inat- 
tention to  stops,  and  a  very  frequent  ignorance  of 
grammar." 

' '  Upon  my  word !  I  need  not  have  been  afraid 
of  disclaiming  the  compliment.  You  do  not  think 
too  highly  of  us  in  that  way." 

''  I  should  no  more  lay  it  down  as  a  general  rule 
that  vvomen  write  better   letters  than  men  than 


24  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

that  tliey  sing  better  duets  or  draw  better  land' 
scapes.  In  every  power  of  which  taste  is  th«? 
foundation  excellence  is  pretty  fairly  divided 
between  the  sexes." 

They  were  interrupted  by  Mrs.  Allen.  ^<  My 
dear  Catherine,"  said  she,  ''do  take  this  pin  out 
of  my  sleeve.  I  am  afraid  it  has  torn  a  hole 
already.  I  shall  be  quite  sorry  if  it  has;  for  this 
is  a  favorite  gown,  though  it  cost  but  nine  shil- 
lings a  yard." 

''That  is  exactly  what  I  should  have  guessed  it, 
madam,"  said  Mr.  Tilney,  looking  at  the  muslin. 

"  Do  you  understand  muslins,  sir?  " 

"Particularly  well;  I  always  buy  my  own  cra- 
vats, and  am  allowed  to  be  an  excellent  judge;  and 
my  sister  has  often  trusted  me  in  the  choice  of  a 
gown.  I  bought  one  for  her  the  other  day,  and  it 
was  pronounced  to  be  a  prodigious  bargain  by 
every  lady  who  saw  it.  I  gave  but  five  shillings 
a  yard  for  it,  and  a  true  Indian  muslin." 

Mrs.  Allen  was  quite  struck  by  his  genius. 
"Men  commonly  take  so  little  notice  of  those 
things,"  said  she.  "I  can  never  get  Mr.  Allen 
to  know  one  of  my  gowns  from  another.  You 
must  be  a  great  comfort  to  your  sister,    sir." 

"  I  hope  I  am,  madam." 

"And  pray,  sir,  what  do  you  think  of  Miss 
Morland's  gown?  " 

"It  is  very  pretty,  madam,"  said  he,  gravely 
examining  it;  "but  I  do  not  think  it  will  wash 
well:  I  am  afraid  it  will  fray." 

"How  can  you,"  said  Catherine,  laughing, 
"be  so  "  —  she  had  almost  said  "strange." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  25 

''I  am  quite  of  your  opinion,  sir/'  replied  Mrs. 
Allen;  '^  and  so  I  told  Miss  Morland  when  she 
bought  it." 

*'But  then  you  know,  madam,  muslin  alwa^'-s 
turns  to  some  account  or  other :  Miss  Morland  will 
get  enough  out  of  it  for  a  handkerchief  or  a  cap 
or  a  cloak.  Muslin  can  never  be  said  to  be  wasted. 
I  have  heard  my  sister  say  so  forty  times,  when 
she  has  been  extravagant  in  buying  more  than  she 
wanted,  or  careless  in  cutting  it  to  pieces. '^ 

'^Bath  is  a  charming  place,  sir;  there  are  so 
many  good  shops  here.  We  are  sadly  off  in  the 
country,  —  not  but  what  we  have  ver}^  good  shops  in 
Salisbury,  but  it  is  so  far  to  go;  eight  miles  is  a 
long  way;  Mr.  Allen  says  it  is  nine,  measured 
nine;  but  I  am  sure  it  cannot  be  more  than  eight; 
and  it  is  such  a  fag,  —  I  come  back  tired  to  death. 
Now,  here  one  can  step  out  of  doors,  and  get  a 
thing  in  five   minutes." 

Mr.  Tilney  was  polite  enough  to  seem  interested 
in  what  she  said;  and  she  kept  him  on  the  subject 
of  muslins  till  the  dancing  recommenced.  Cath- 
erine feared,  as  she  listened  to  their  discourse, 
that  he  indulged  himself  a  little  too  much  with 
the  foibles  of  others.  "What  are  you  thinking 
of  so  earnestly?"  said  he,  as  they  walked  back  to 
the  ball-room;  "not  of  your  partner,  I  hope, 
for  by  that  shake  of  the  head  your  meditations 
are  not  satisfactory." 

Catherine  colored,  and  said,  "  I  was  not  think- 
ing of  anything." 

"  That  is  artful  and  deep,  to  be  sure;  but  I  had 
rather  be  told  at  ouce  that  you  will  not  tell  me.'' 


26  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

^^Well,  then,  I  will  not." 

''Thank  you;  for  now  we  shall  soon  be  ac- 
quainted, as  I  am  authorized  to  tease  you  on  this 
subject  whenever  we  meet,  and  nothing  in  the 
world  advances   intimacy  so   much.'^ 

They  danced  again;  and  when  the  assembly 
closed,  parted,  on  the  lady's  side  at  least,  with  a 
strong  inclination  for  continuing  the  acquaintance. 
Whether  she  thought  of  him  so  much  while  she 
drank  her  warm  wine  and  water  and  prepared  her- 
self for  bed  as  to  dream  of  him  when  there,  cannot 
be  ascertained;  but  I  hope  it  was  no  more  than  in 
a  slight  slumber,  or  a  morning  doze  at  most;  for 
if  it  be  true,  as  a  celebrated  writer  has  maintained, 
that  no  young  lady  can  be  justified  in  falling  in 
love  before  the  gentleman's  love  is  declared,^  it 
must  be  very  improper  that  a  young  lady  should 
dream  of  a  gentleman  before  the  gentleman  is  first 
known  to  have  dreamt  of  her.  How  proper  Mr. 
Tilney  might  be  as  a  dreamer  or  a  lover,  had  not 
yet,  perhaps,  entered  Mr.  Allen's  head;  but  that 
he  was  not  objectionable  as  a  common  acquaintance 
for  his  young  charge,  he  was  on  inquiry  satisfied; 
for  he  had  early  in  the  evening  taken  pains  to 
know  who  her  partner  was,  and  had  been  assured 
of  Mr.  Tilney's  being  a  clergyman,  and  of  a  very 
respectable  family  in  Gloucestershire. 

1  Vide  a  letter  from  Mr.  Richardson,  No.  97,  vol.  ii., 
«  Rambler  " 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  27 


CHAPTEE  lY. 

With  more  than  usual  eagerness  did  Catherine 
hasten  to  the  Pump-room  the  next  day,  secure 
within  herself  of  seeing  Mr.  Tilney  there  before 
the  morning  was  over,  and  ready  to  meet  him  with 
a  smile;  but  no  smile  was  demanded,  — Mr.  Tilney 
did  not  appear.  Every  creature  in  Bath,  except 
himself,  was  to  be  seen  in  the  room  at  different 
periods  of  the  fashionable  hours ;  crowds  of  people 
were  every  moment  passing  in  and  out,  up  the 
steps  and  down ;  people  whom  nobody  cared  about, 
and  nobody  wanted  to  see ;  and  he  only  was  absent. 
<'What  a  delightful  place  Bath  is,"  said  Mrs. 
Allen,  as  they  sat  down  near  the  great  clock,  after 
parading  the  room  till  they  were  tired;  ^'and  how 
pleasant  it  wo  aid  be  if  we  had  any  acquaintance 
here.'' 

This  sentiment  had  been  uttered  so  often  in 
vain  that  Mrs.  Allen  had  no  particular  reason  to 
hope  it  would  be  followed  with  more  advantage 
now ;  but  we  are  told  to  ^ '  despair  of  nothing  we 
would  attain,''  as  '^unwearied  diligence  our  point 
would  gain:"  and  the  unwearied  diligence  with 
which  she  had  every  day  wished  for  the  same  thing 
was  at  length  to  have  its  just  reward;  for  hardly 
had  she  been  seated  ten  minutes,  before  a  lady  of 
about  her  own  age,   who  was  sitting  by  her,  and 


28  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

had  been  looking  at  her  attentively  for  several 
minutes,  addressed  her  with  great  complaisance 
in  these  words:  ^'I  think,  madam,  I  cannot  be 
mistaken;  it  is  along  time  since  I  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  seeing  you,  but  is  not  your  name  Allen?  '' 
This  question  answered,  as  it  readily  was,  the 
stranger  pronounced  hers  to  be  Thorpe;  and  Mrs. 
Allen  immediately  recognized  the  features  of  her 
former  school-fellow  and  intimate,  whom  she  had 
seen  only  once  since  their  respective  marriages, 
and  that  many  years  ago.  Their  joy  on  this  meet- 
ing was  very  great,  as  well  it  might;  since  they 
had  been  contented  to  know  nothing  of  each  other 
for  the  last  fifteen  years.  Compliments  on  good 
looks  now  passed;  and  after  observing  how  time 
had  slipped  away  since  they  were  last  together, 
how  little  they  had  thought  of  meeting  in  Bath, 
and  what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  see  an  old  friend, 
they  proceeded  to  make  inquiries  and  give  intelli- 
gence as  to  their  families,  sisters,  and  cousins, 
talking  both  together,  far  more  ready  to  give  than 
to  receive  information,  and  each  hearing  very 
little  of  what  the  other  said.  Mrs.  Thorj^e,  how- 
ever, had  one  great  advantage  as  a  talker  over 
Mrs.  Allen,  in  a  family  of  children ;  and  when  she 
expatiated  on  the  talents  of  her  sons  and  the 
beauty  of  her  daughters,  —  when  she  related  their 
different  situations  and  views,  —  that  John  was  at 
Oxford,  Edward  at  Merchant-Taylors',  and  Wil- 
liam at  sea,  —  and  all  of  them  more  beloved  and 
respected  in  their  different  stations  than  any  other 
three  beings  ever  were,  Mrs.  Allen  had  no  similar 
information  to  give,  no  similar  triumphs  to  press 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  29 

on  the  unwilling  and  unbelieving  ear  of  her  friend ; 
and  was  forced  to  sit  and  appear  to  listen  to  all 
these  maternal  effusions,  —  consoling  herself,  how- 
ever, with  the  discovery,  which  her  keen  eyes  soon 
made,  that  the  lace  on  Mrs.  Thorpe's  pelisse  was 
not  half  so  handsome  as  that  on  her  own. 

'*  Here  come  my  dear  girls,"  cried  Mrs.  Thorpe, 
pointing  at  three  smart-looking  females,  who,  arm 
in  arm,  were  then  moving  towards  her.  '^My 
dear  Mrs.  Allen,  I  long  to  introduce  them;  they 
will  be  so  delighted  to  see  you  ;  the  tallest  is 
Isabella,  my  eldest  ;  is  she  not  a  fine  young 
woman?  The  others  are  very  much  admired  too; 
but  I  believe  Isabella  is  the  handsomest.'' 

The  Miss  Thorpes  were  introduced;  and  Miss 
Morland,  who  had  been  for  a  short  time  forgotten, 
was  introduced  likewise.  The  name  seemed  to 
strike  them  all  ;  and  after  speaking  to  her  with 
great  civility,  the  eldest  young  lady  observed  aloud 
to  the  rest,  *'How  excessively  like  her  brother 
Miss  Morland  is!  " 

^'The  very  picture  of  him  indeed  !  "  cried  the 
mother;  and  ^'I  should  have  known  her  anywhere 
for  his  sister  !  "  was  repeated  by  them  all,  two  or 
three  times  over.  For  a  moment  Catherine  was 
surprised;  but  Mrs.  Thorpe  and  her  daughters  had 
scarcely  begun  the  history  of  their  acquaintance 
with  Mr.  James  Morland,  before  she  remembered 
that  her  eldest  brother  had  lately  formed  an  inti- 
macy with  a  young  man  of  his  own  college,  of  the 
name  of  Thorpe,  and  that  he  had  spent  the  last 
week  of  the  Christmas  vacation  with  his  family, 
near  London. 

The    whole    being    explained,     many    obliging 


/ 


II 


30  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

things  were  said  by  the  Miss  Thorpes  of  their 
wish  of  being  better  acquainted  with  her  ;  of  being 
considered  as  already  friends,  through  the  friend- 
ship of  their  brothers,  etc.,  which  Catherine  heard 
with  pleasure,  and  answered  with  all  the  pretty  ex- 
pressions she  could  command;  and  as  the  first 
proof  of  amity,  she  was  soon  invited  to  accept  an 
arm  of  the  eldest  Miss  Thorpe,  and  take  a  turn 
with  her  about  the  room.  Catherine  was  delighted 
with  this  extension  of  her  Bath  acquaintance,  and 
almost  forgot  Mr.  Tilney  while  she  talked  to  Miss 
Thorpe.  Friendship  is  certainly  the  finest  balm 
for  the  pangs  of  disappointed  love. 

Their  conversation  turned  upon  those  subjects  of 
which  the  free  discussion  has  generally  much  to 
do  in  perfecting  a  sudden  intimacy  between  two 
young  ladies;  such  as  dress,  balls,  flirtations,  and 
quizzes.  Miss  Thorpe,  however,  being  four  years 
older  than  Miss  Morland,  and  at  least  four  years 
better  informed,  had  a  very  decided  advantage  in 
discussing  such  points;  she  could  compare  the 
balls  of  Bath  with  those  of  Tunbridge,  its  fashions 
with  the  fashions  of  London;  could  rectify  the 
opinions  of  her  new  friend  in  many  articles  of 
tasteful  attire;  could  discover  a  flirtation  between 
any  gentleman  and  lady  who  only  smiled  on  each 
other;  and  point  out  a  quiz  through  the  thickness 
of  a  crowd.  These  powers  received  due  admiration 
from  Catherine,  to  whom  they  were  entirely  new; 
and  the  respect  which  they  naturally  inspired 
might  have  been  too  great  for  familiarit}^,  had  not 
the  easy  gayety  of  Miss  Thorpe's  manners,  and  her 
frequent  expressions  of  delight  on  this  acquaint- 
ance with  her,  softened  down  every  feeling  of  awe 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  31 

and  left  nothing  but  tender  affection.  Their  in- 
creasing attachment  was  not  to  be  satisfied  with 
lialf-a-dozen  turns  in  the  Pump-room,  but  required, 
when  they  all  quitted  it  together,  that  Miss 
Thorpe  should  accompany  Miss  Morland  to  the 
very  door  of  Mr.  Allen's  house;  and  that  they 
should  there  part  with  a  most  affectionate  and 
lengthened  shake  of  hands,  after  learning,  to  their 
mutual  relief,  that  they  should  see  each  other 
across  the  theatre  at  night,  and  say  their  prayers 
in  the  same  chapel  the  next  morning.  Catherine 
then  ran  directly  upstairs,  and  watched  Miss 
Thorpe's  progress  down  the  street  from  the  drawing- 
room  window;  admired  the  graceful  spirit  of  her 
walk,  the  fashionable  air  of  her  figure  and  dress, 
and  felt  grateful,  as  well  she  might,  for  the  chance 
which  had  procured  her  such  a  friend. 

Mrs.  Thorpe  was  a  widow,  and  not  a  very  rich 
one ;  she  was  a  good-humored,  well-meaning  woman, 
and  a  very  indulgent  mother.  Her  eldest  daughter 
had  great  personal  beauty ;  and  the  younger  ones, 
by  pretending  to  be  as  handsome  as  their  sister, 
imitating  her  air,  and  dressing  in  the  same  stj^le, 
did  very  well. 

This  brief  account  of  the  family  is  intended  to 
supersede  the  necessity  of  a  long  and  minute  detail 
from  Mrs.  Thorpe  herself,  of  her  past  adventures 
and  sufferings,  which  might  otherwise  be  expected 
to  occupy  the  three  or  four  following  chapters,  — 
in  which  the  worthlessness  of  lords  and  attorneys 
might  be  set  forth,  and  conversations,  which  had 
passed  twenty  years  before,  be  minutely  repeated. 


32  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Catherine  was  not  so  much  engaged  at  the 
theatre  that  evening,  in  returning  the  nods  and 
smiles  of  Miss  Thorpe,  though  they  certainly 
claimed  much  of  her  leisure,  as  to  forget  to  look 
with  an  inquiring  eye  for  Mr.  Tilney  in  every  box 
which  her  eye  could  reach;  but  she  looked  in  vain. 
Mr.  Tilney  was  no  fonder  of  the  play  than  the 
Pump-room.  She  hoped  to  be  more  fortunate  the 
next  day;  and  when  her  wishes  for  fine  weather 
were  answered  by  seeing  a  beautiful  morning,  she 
hardly  felt  a  doubt  of  it;  for  a  fine  Sunday  in 
Bath  empties  every  house  of  its  inhabitants,  and  all 
the  world  appears,  on  such  an  occasion,  to  walk 
about  and  tell  their  acquaintance  what  a  charming 
day  it  is. 

As  soon  as  divine  service  was  over,  the  Thorpes 
and  Aliens  eagerly  joined  each  other;  and  after 
staying  long  enough  in  the  Pump-room  to  discover 
that  the  crowd  was  insupportable,  and  that  there 
was  not  a  genteel  face  to  be  seen,  which  everj^body 
discovers  every  Sunday  throughout  the  season, 
they  hastened  away  to  the  Crescent  to  breathe  the 
fresh  air  of  better  company.  Here  Catherine  and 
Isabella,  arm  in  arm,  again  tasted  the  sweets  of 
friendship  in  an  unreserved  conversation ;  —  they 
talked  much,  and  with  much  enjoyment;  but  again 


NORTHAXGER  ABBEY.  33 

was  Catherine  disappointed  in  her  hope  of  re-seeing 
her  partner.  He  was  nowhere  to  be  met  with: 
every  search  for  him  was  equally  unsuccessful,  in 
morning  lounges  or  evening  assemblies;  neither 
at  the  Upper  nor  Lower  Eooms,  at  dressed  or  un- 
dressed balls,  was  he  perceivable ;  nor  among  the 
walkers,  the  horsemen,  or  the  curricle-drivers  of 
the  morning.  His  name  was  not  in  the  Pump- 
room  book,  and  curiosity  could  do  no  more.  He 
must  be  gone  from  Bath ;  yet  he  had  not  mentioned 
that  his  stay  would  be  so  short!  This  sort  of 
mysteriousness,  which  is  always  so  becoming  in  a 
hero,  threw  a  fresh  grace,  in  Catherine's  imagi- 
nation, around  his  person  and  manners,  and  in- 
creased her  anxiety  to  know  more  of  him.  From 
the  Thorpes  she  could  learn  nothing,  for  they  had 
been  only  two  days  in  Bath  before  they  met  with 
Mrs.  Allen.  It  was  a  subject,  however,  in  which 
she  often  indulged  with  her  fair  friend,  from 
whom  she  received  every  possible  encouragement 
to  continue  to  think  of  him;  and  his  impression 
on  her  fancy  was  not  suffered  therefore  to  weaken. 
Isabella  was  very  sure  that  he  must  be  a  charming 
young  man;  and  was  equally  sure  that  he  must 
have  been  delighted  with  her  dear  Catherine,  and 
would  therefore  shortly  return.  She  liked  him 
the  better  for  being  a  clergjanan,  ^'for  she  must 
confess  herself  very  partial  to  the  profession;  " 
and  something  like  a  sigh  escaped  her  as  she  said 
it.  Perhaps  Catherine  was  wrong  in  not  demand- 
ing the  cause  of  that  gentle  emotion;  but  she 
was  not  experienced  enough  in  the  finesse  of  love 
or  the  duties  of  friendship  to  know  when  delicate 
d 


34  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

raillery  was  properly  called  for,   or  when  a  confi- 
dence should  be  forced. 

Mrs.  Allen  was  now  quite  happy,  —  quite  satisfied 
with  Bath.  She  had  found  some  acquaintance; 
had  been  so  lucky,  too,  as  to  find  in  them  the 
family  of  a  most  worthy  old  friend;  and  as  the 
completion  of  good  fortune,  had  found  these 
friends  by  no  means  so  expensively  dressed  as 
herself.  Her  daily  expressions  were  no  longer, 
*^  I  wish  we  had  some  acquaintance  in  Bath!" 
They  were  changed  into,  ''How  glad  I  am  we 
have  met  with  Mrs.  Thorpe!"  and  she  was  as 
eager  in  promoting  the  intercourse  of  the  two  fam- 
ilies as  her  young  charge  and  Isabella  themselves 
could  be;  never  satisfied  with  the  day  unless  she 
spent  the  chief  of  it  by  the  side  of  Mrs.  Thorpe, 
in  what  they  called  conversation;,  but  in  which 
there  was  scarcely  ever  any  exchange  of  opinion, 
and  not  often  any  resemblance  of  subject,  — for  Mrs. 
Thorpe  talked  chiefly  of  her  children,  and  Mrs. 
Allen  of  her  gowns. 

The  progress  of  the  friendship  between  Catherine 
and  Isabella  was  quick  as  its  beginning  had  been 
warm;  and  they  passed  so  rapidly  through  every 
gradation  of  increasing  tenderness  that  there  was 
shortly  no  fresh  proof  of  it  to  be  given  to  their 
friends  or  themselves.  They  called  each  other  by 
their  Christian  name,  were  always  arm  in  arm 
when  they  walked,  pinned  up  each  other's  train  for 
the  dance,  and'  were  not  to  be  divided  in  the  set; 
and  if  a  rainy  morning  deprived  them  of  other 
enjo3^ments,  they  were  still  resolute  in  meeting,  in 
defiance  of  wet  and  dirt,  and  shut  themselves  up  to 


NOIiTHANGER  ABBEY.  35 

^ead  novels  together.  Yes,  novels ;  for  I  will  not 
adopt  that  ungenerous  and  impolitic  custom,  so 
common  with  novel-writers,  of  degrading,  by  their 
contemptuous  censure,  the  very  performances  to 
the  number  of  which  they  are  themselves  adding; 
joining  with  their  greatest  enemies  in  bestowing 
the  harshest  epithets  on  such  works,  and  scarcely 
ever  permitting  them  to  be  read  by  their  own 
heroine,  who,  if  she  accidentally  take  up  a  novel, 
is  sure  to  turn  over  its  insipid  pages  with  disgust. 
Alas !  if  the  heroine  of  one  novel  be  not  patronized 
by  the  heroine  of  another,  from  whom  can  she 
expect  protection  and  regard?  I  cannot  approve  of 
it.  Let  us  leave  it  to  the  reviewers  to  abuse  such 
effusions  of  fancy  at  their  leisure,  and  over  every 
new  novel  to  talk  in  threadbare  strains  of  the  trash 
with  which  the  press  now  groans.  Let  us  not 
desert  one  another:  we  are  an  injured  body. 
Although  our  productions  have  afforded  more  exten- 
sive and  unaffected  pleasure  than  those  of  any 
other  literary  corporation  in  the  world,  no  species 
of  composition  has  been  so  much  decried.  From 
pride,  ignorance,  or  fashion,  our  foes  are  almost  as 
many  as  our  readers;  and  while  the  abilities  of  the 
nine-hundredth  abridger  of  the  History  of  England, 
or  of  the  man  who  collects  and  publishes  in  a 
Yolume  some  dozen  lines  of  Milton,  Pope,  and 
Prior,  with  a  paper  from  the  ''  Spectator,"  and  a 
chapter  from  Sterne,  are  eulogized  by  a  thousand 
pens,  —  there  seems  almost  a  general  wish  of  de- 
crying the  capacity  and  undervaluing  the  labor 
of  the  novelist,  and  of  slighting  the  performances 
which  have  only  genius,  wit,   and  taste  to  recom- 


36  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

mend  them.  ^^  I  am  no  novel-reader; ''  "I  seldom 
look  into  novels;  "  '^Do  not  imagine  tliat  I  often 
read  novels;  "  ^'  It  is  really  very  well  for  a  novel/^ 
—  such  is  the  common  cant.      *' And  what  are  you 

reading,  Miss ?  "     " Oh,  it  is  only  a  novel!  *' 

replies  the  young  lady,  while  she  lays  down  her 
book  with  affected  indifference  or  momentary 
shame.  ^'  It  is  only  Cecilia,  or  Camilla,  or  Belinda; 
or,  in  short,  only  some  work  in  which  the  greatest 
powers  of  the  mind  are  displayed,  in  which  the 
most  thorough  knowledge  of  human  nature,  the 
happiest  delineation  of  its  varieties,  the  liveliest 
effusions  of  wit  and  humor,  are  conveyed  to  the 
world  in  the  best-chosen  language.  Now,  had  the 
same  young  lady  been  engaged  with  a  volume  of  the 
*^  Spectator,"  instead  of  such  a  work,  how  proudly 
would  she  have  produced  the  book,  and  told  its 
name!  though  the  chances  must  be  against  her 
being  occupied  by  any  part  of  that  voluminous 
publication,  of  which  either  the  matter  or  manner 
would  not  disgust  a  young  person  of  taste;  the 
substance  of  its  papers  so  often  consisting  in  the 
statement  of  improbable  circumstances,  unnatural 
characters,  and  topics  of  conversation  which  no  lon- 
ger concern  any  one  living;  and  their  language, 
too,  frequently  so  coarse  as  to  give  no  very  favor- 
able idea  of  the  age  that  could  endure  it. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  37 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  following  conversation,  which  took  place 
between  the  two  friends  in  the  Pump-room  one 
morning,  after  an  acquaintance  of  eight  or  nine 
days,  is  given  as  a  specimen  of  their  very  warm 
attachment,  and  of  the  delicacy,  discretion, 
originality  of  thought,  and  literary  taste  which 
marked  the  reasonableness  of  that  attachment. 

They  met  by  appointment ;  and  as  Isabella  had 
arrived  nearly  five  minutes  before  her  friend,  her 
first  address  naturally  was:  ^'My  dearest  creat- 
ure, what  can  have  made  you  so  late?  I  have  been 
waiting  for  you  at  least  this  age!  ^' 

*'  Have  you,  indeed?  I  am  very  sorry  for  it;  but 
really  I  thought  I  was  in  very  good  time.  It  is  but 
just  one.     I  hope  you  have  not  been  here  long  ?  '^ 

"  Oh,  these  ten  ages,  at  least!  I  am  sure  I 
have  been  here  this  half-hour.  But  now  let  us  go 
and  sit  down  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  and  enjoy 
ourselves.  I  have  a  hundred  things  to  say  to  you. 
In  the  first  place,  I  was  so  afraid  it  would  rain 
this  morning,  just  as  I  wanted  to  set  off;  it  looked 
very  showery,  and  that  would  have  thrown  me  into 
agonies!  Do  you  know,  I  saw  the  prettiest  hat 
you  can  imagine,  in  a  shop-window  in  Milsom 
Street  just  now,  —  very  like  yours,  only  with  co- 
quelicot  ribands  instead  of  green?     I  quite  longed 


38  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

for  it.  But,  my  dearest  Catherine,  what  have  you 
"been  doing  with  yourself  all  this  morning?  Have 
you  gone  on  with  Udolpho?  ^^ 

^' Yes;  I  have  been  reading  it  ever  since  I  woke, 
and  I  am  got  to  the  black  veil.'' 

''Ave  you,  indeed?  How  delightful!  Oh,  I 
would  not  tell  you  what  is  behind  the  black  veil  for 
the  world!     Are  not  you  wild  to  know?  '' 

''  Oh,  yes!  quite;  what  can  it  be?  But  do  not 
tell  me,  —  I  would  not  be  told  upon  any  account. 
I  know  it  must  be  a  skeleton;  I  am  sure  it  is 
Laurentina's  skeleton.  Oh,  I  am  delighted  with 
the  book!  I  should  like  to  spend  my  whole  life 
in  reading  it,  I  assure  you ;  if  it  had  not  been  to 
meet  you,  I  would  not  have  come  away  from  it  for 
all  the  world.'' 

''  Dear  creature!  how  much  I  am  obliged  to  you; 
and  when  you  have  finished  Udolpho,  we  will  read 
the  Italian  together;  and  I  have  made  out  a  list  of 
ten  or  twelve  more  of  the  same  kind  for  you." 

*'Have  you,  indeed?  How  glad  I  am!  What 
are  they  all?" 

''  I  will  read  you  their  names  directly;  here  they 
are,  in  my  pocket-book:  Castle  of  Wolfenbach, 
Clermont,  Mysterious  Warnings,  Kecromancer  of 
the  Black  Forest,  Midnight  Bell,  Orphan  of  the 
E-hine,  and  Horrid  Mysteries.  Those  will  last  us 
sometime." 

*^  Yes,  pretty  well;  but  are  they  all  horrid?  Are 
you  sure  they  are  all  horrid?  " 

'*  Yes,  quite  sure;  for  a  particular  friend  of  mine, 
—  a  Miss  Andrews,  —  a  sweet  girl,  one  of  the  sweet- 
est creatures  in  the  world,   has  read  every  one  of 


NORTHANGEil  ABBEY.  39 

them.  I  wish  you  knew  Miss  Andrews ;  you  would 
be  delighted  with  her.  She  is  netting  herself  the 
sweetest  cloak  you  can  conceive.  I  think  her  as 
beautiful  as  an  angel,  and  I  am  so  vexed  with  the 
men  for  not  admiring  her!  I  scold  them  all  amaz- 
ingly about  it.'' 

' '  Scold  them !  Do  you  scold  them  for  not 
admiring  her? '' 

''  Yes,  that  I  do.  There  is  nothing  T  would  not 
do  for  those  who  are  really  my  friends.  I  have  no 
notion  of  loving  people  by  halves;  it  is  not  my 
nature.  My  attachments  are  always  excessively 
strong.  I  told  Captain  Hunt  at  one  of  our  assem- 
blies this  winter,  that  if  he  was  to  tease  me  all 
night  I  would  not  dance  with  him,  unless  he 
would  allow  Miss  Andrews  to  be  as  beautiful  as  an 
angel.  The  men  think  us  incapable  of  real  friend- 
ship, you  know ;  and  I  am  determined  to  show  them 
the  difference.  Now,  if  I  were  to  hear  anj^bodj^ 
speak  slightingly  of  you,  I  should  fire  up  in  a 
moment ;  but  that  is  not  at  all  likely,  for  you  are 
just  the  kind  of  girl  to  be  a  great  favorite  with 
the  men.'' 

'*  Oh,  dear!"  cried  Catherine,  coloring,  *^how 
can  you  say  so  ?  " 

^'I  know  you  very  well;  you  have  so  much 
animation,  which  is  exactly  what  Miss  Andrews 
wants;  for  I  must  confess  there  is  something 
amazingly  insipid  about  her.  Oh,  I  must  tell  you 
that  just  after  we  parted  yesterday  I  saw  a  young 
man  looking  at  you  so  earnestly;  I  am  sure  he  is 
in  love  with  you."  Catherine  colored,  and  dis- 
claimed  again.     Isabella  laughed.      ^*It    is   very 


40  NOllTHANGER  ABBEY. 

true,  upon  my  honor ;  but  I  see  how  it  is,  —  you  are 
indifferent  to  everybody's  admiration  except  that 
of  one  gentleman,  who  shall  be  nameless.  Nay, 
I  cannot  blame  you,''  speaking  more  seriously; 
"  your  feelings  are  easily  understood.  Where  the 
heart  is  really  attached,  I  know  very  well  how 
little  one  can  be  pleased  with  the  attention  of  any- 
body else.  Everything  is  so  insipid,  so  uninter- 
esting, that  does  not  relate  to  the  beloved  object! 
I  can  perfectly  comprehend  your  feelings." 

*^But  you  should  not  persuade  me  that  I  thiuk 
so  very  much  about  Mr.  Tilney;  for  perhaps  I  may 
never  see  him  again." 

^*Not  see  him  again!  My  dearest  creature,  do 
not  talk  of  it.  I  am  sure  you  would  be  miserable 
if  you  thought  so." 

^^No,  indeed,  I  should  not.  I  do  not  pretend  to 
say  that  I  was  not  very  much  pleased  with  him; 
but  while  I  have  Udolpho  to  read,  I  feel  as  if  no- 
body could  make  me  miserable.  Oh,  the  dreadful 
black  veil!  My  dear  Isabella,  I  am  sure  there 
must  be  Laurentina's  skeleton  behind  it." 

"It  is  so  odd  to  me  that  you  should  never  have 
read  Udolpho  before;  but  I  suppose  Mrs.  Morland 
objects  to  novels." 

*^No;  she  does  not.  She  very  often  reads  Sir 
Charles  Grandison  herself;  but  new  books  do  not 
fall  in  our  way." 

"Sir  Charles  Grandison!  That  is  an  amaziug 
horrid  book,  is  it  not?  I  remember  Miss  Andrews 
could  not  get  through  the  first  volume." 

"It  is  not  like  Udolpho  at  all;  but  yet  I  think 
it  is  very  entertaining." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  41 

'^Do  you  indeed! — you  surprise  me;  I  thouglit 
it  had  not  been  readable.  But,  my  dearest  Cath- 
erine, have  you  settled  what  to  wear  on  your  head 
to-night?  I  am  determined,  at  all  events,  to  be 
dressed  exactly  like  you.  The  men  take  notice  of 
that  sometimes,  you  know.'' 

''But  it  does  not  signify,  if  they  do,''  said 
Catherine,  vevy  innocently. 

''Signify!  0  heavens!  I  make  it  a  rule  never 
to  mind  what  they  say.  They  are  very  often 
amazingly  impertinent,  if  you  do  not  treat  them 
with  spirit,  and  make  them  keep  their  distance." 

"Are  they?  Well,  I  never  observed  that. 
They  always  behave  very  well  to  me." 

"Oh,  they  give  themselves  such  airs!  They  are 
the  most  conceited  creatures  in  the  world,  and 
think  themselves  of  so  much  importance !  B3'  the 
by,  though  I  have  thought  of  it  a  hundred  times, 
I  have  always  forgot  to  ask  you  what  is  your  fa- 
vorite complexion  in  a  man.  Do  you  like  them 
best  dark  or  fair  ?  " 

"I  hardly  know.  I  never  much  thought  about 
it.  Something  between  both,  I  think:  brown,  — 
not  fair,  and  not  very  dark. " 

"Very  well,  Catherine,  That  is  exactly  he.  I 
have  not  forgot  your  description  of  Mr.  Tilney,  -^ 
a  brown  skin,  with  dark  eyes,  and  rather  dark 
air.'  Well,  my  taste  is  diffei^ent.  I  prefer  light 
eyes;  and  as  to  complexion,  do  you  know,  I 
like  a  sallow  better  than  any  other.  You  must  not 
betray  me,  if  you  should  ever  meet  with  one  of 
your  acquaintance  answering  that  description." 

"  Betray  you!     What  do  you  mean?  " 


42  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

'^Nay,  do  not  distress  me.  I  believe  I  have 
said  too  much.     Let  us  drop  the  subject. '' 

Catherine,  in  some  amazement,  complied;  and 
after  remaining  a  few  moments  silent,  was  on  the 
point  of  reverting  to  what  interested  her  at  that 
time  rather  more  than  anything  else  iii  the  world, 
—  Laurentina's  skeleton,  —  when  her  friend  pre- 
vented her,  by  saying,  *^For  heaven's  sake!  let 
us  move  away  from  this  end  of  the  room.  Do  you 
know,  there  are  two  odious  young  men  who  have 
been  staring  at  me  this  half-hour?  They  really 
put  me  quite  out  of  countenance.  Let  us  go  and 
look  at  the  arrivals.  They  will  hardly  follow  us 
there.'' 

Awaj''  they  walked  to  the  book;  and  while 
Isabella  examined  the  names,  it  was  Catherine's 
employment  to  watch  the  proceedings  of  these 
alarming  young  men. 

^^They  are  not  coming  this  way,  are  they?  I 
hope  they  are  not  so  impertinent  as  to  follow  us. 
Pray  let  me  know  if  they  are  coming.  I  am  deter- 
mined I  will  not  look  up." 

In  a  few  moments  Catherine,  with  unaffected 
pleasure,  assured  her  that  she  need  not  be  longer 
uneasy,  as  the  gentlemen  had  just  left  the  Pump- 
room. 

''And  which  way  are  they  gone?  "  said  Isabella, 
turning  hastily  round.  ''One  was  a  very  good- 
looking  young  man." 

"They  went  towards  the  churchyard." 

"Well,  I  am  amazingly  glad  I  have  got  rid  of 
them!  And  now,  what  say  you  to  going  to  Edgar's 
Buildings  with  me,  and  looking  at  my  new  hat? 
You  said  you  should  like  to  see  it." 


NORTIiANGER  ABBEY.  43 

Catherine  readily  agreed.  ^'Only/^  she  added, 
"perhaps  we  may  overtake  the  two  young  men." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that.  If  we  make  haste,  we 
shall  pass  by  them  presently,  and  I  am  dying  to 
show  you  my  hat." 

"But  if  we  only  wait  a  few  minutes,  there  will 
be  no  danger  of  our  seeing  them  at  all.'^ 

"  I  shall  not  pay  them  any  such  compliment,  I 
assure  you.  I  have  no  notion  of  treating  men  with 
such  respect.     That  is  the  way  to  spoil  them." 

Catherine  had  nothing  to  oppose  against  such 
reasoning;  and  therefore,  to  show  the  independence 
of  Miss  Thorpe,  and  her  resolution  of  humbling  the 
sex,  they  set  off  immediately  as  fast  as  they  could 
walk,  in  pursuit  of  the  two  young  men. 


44  NORTHANGER  ABBEY, 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Half  a  minute  conducted  them  through  the 
Pump-yard  to  the  archway,  opposite  Union  Pas- 
sage; but  here  they  were  stopped.  Everybody  ac- 
quainted with  Bath  may  remember  the  difficulties 
of  crossing  Cheap  Street  at  this  point  j  it  is  indeed 
a  street  of  so  impertinent  a  nature,  so  unfortu- 
nately connected  with  the  great  London  and  Ox- 
ford roads,  and  the  principal  inn  of  the  city,  that 
a  day  never  passes  in  which  parties  of  ladies,  how- 
ever important  their  business,  whether  in  quest  of 
(pastry,  millinery,  or  even  (as  in  the  present  case) 
of  young  men,  are  not  detained  on  one  side  or 
other  by  carriages,  horsemen,  or  carts.  This  evil 
had  been  felt  and  lamented,  at  least  three  times 
a  day,  by  Isabella  since  her  residence  in  Bath ;  and 
she  was  now  fated  to  feel  and  lament  it  once  more ; 
for  at  the  very  moment  of  coming  opposite  to 
Union  Passage,  and  within  view  of  the  two  gentle- 
men, who  were  proceeding  through  the  crowds,  and 
threading  the  gutters  of  that  interesting  alley, 
they  were  prevented  crossing  by  the  approach  of  a 
gig,  driven  along  on  bad  pavement  by  a  most  know- 
ing-looking coachman,  with  all  the  vehemence  that 
could  most  fitly  endanger  the  live,  of  himself,  his 
companion,  and  his  horse. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  45 

*^0b,  these  odious  gigs!  "  said  Isabella,  looking 
up;  *'how  I  detest  them! ''  But  this  detestation, 
though  so  just,  was  of  short  duration;  for  she 
looked  again,  and  exclaimed,  ^'Delightful!  Mr. 
Morland  and  my  brother!'' 

^'  Good  heaven!  't  is  James! ''  was  uttered  at  the 
same  moment  by  Catherine;  and  on  catching  the 
young  men's  eyes,  the  horse  was  immediately 
checked  with  a  violence  which  almost  threw  him  on 
his  haunches,  and,  the  servant  having  now  scampered 
up,  the  gentlemen  jumped  out,  and  the  equipage 
was  delivered  to  his  care. 

Catherine,  by  whom  this  meeting  was  wholly 
unexpected,  received  her  brother  with  the  liveliest 
pleasure;  and  he,  being  of  a  very  aniiable^  disposi- 
tion, and  sincerely  attached  to  her,  gave  every 
proof  on  his  side  of  equal  satisfaction,  which  he 
could  have  leisure  to  do  while  the  bright  eyes  of 
Miss  Thorpe  were  incessantly  challenging  his  no- 
tice; and  to  her  his  devoirs  were  speedily  paid, 
with  a  mixture  of  joy  and  embarrassment  which 
might  have  informed  Catherine,  had  she  been  more 
expert  in  the  development  of  other  people's  feel- 
ings, and  less  simply  engrossed  by  her  own,  that 
her  brother  thought  her  friend  quite  as  pretty  as 
she  could  do  herself. 

John  Thorpe,  who  in  the  mean  time  had  been 
giving  orders  about  the  horses,  soon  joined  them, 
and  from  him  she  directly  received  the  amends 
which  were  her  due;  for  while  he  slightly  and 
carelessly  touched  the  hand  of  Isabella,  on  her  he 
bestowed  a  wht^^e  scrape  and  half  a  short  bow.  He 
was  a  stout  young  man,  of  middling  height,  who, 


46  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

with  a  plain  face  and  ungraceful  form,  seemed  fear- 
ful of  being  too  handsome  unless  he  wore  the 
dress  of  a  groom,  and  too  much  like  a  gentleman 
unless  he  were  easy  where  he  ought  to  be  civil, 
and  impudent  where  he  might  be  allowed  to  be 
easy.  He  took  out  his  watch:  ^'How  long  do  you 
think  we  have  been  running  it  from  Tetbury,  Miss 
Morland?  " 

<'I  do  not  know  'the  distance."  Her  brother 
told  her  that  it  was  twenty-three  miles. 

'<  Three  and  twenty!  "  cried  Thorpe;  '^five  and 
twenty,  if  it  is  an  inch."  Morland  remonstrated, 
j^leaded  the  authority  of  road-books,  innkeepers, 
and  milestones;  but  his  friend  disregarded  them 
all,  — he  had  a  surer  test  of  distance.  *^  I  know  it 
must  be  five  and  twenty,"  said  he,  ''by  the  time 
we  have  been  doing  it.  It  is  now  half  after  one; 
we  drove  out  of  the  inn-yard  at  Tetbury  as  the 
town-clock  struck  eleven;  and  I  defy  any  man  in 
England  to  make  my  horse  go  less  than  ten  miles  "ax 
hour  in  harness ;  that  makes  it  exactly  twenty-five. '' 

''You  have  lost  an  hour,"  said  Morland;  "it 
was  only  ten  o'clock  when  we  came  from 
Tetbury. '^ 

"Ten  o'clock!  it  was  eleven,  upon  my  soul!  I 
counted  every  stroke.  This  brother  of  yours 
would  persuade  me  out  of  my  senses.  Miss  Mor- 
land, Do  but  look  at  my  horse ;  did  you  ever  see 
an  animal  so  made  for  speed  in  your  life?  "  (The 
servant  had  just  mounted  the  carriage,  and  was 
driving  off.)  "Such  true  blood!  Three  hours 
and  a  half,  indeed,  coming  only  three  and  twenty 
miles !  Look  at  that  creature,  and  suppose  it  pos- 
sible,  if  you  can." 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.  47 

^'He  does  look  very  hot,  to  be  sure.'' 

^*Hot!  he  had  not  turned  a  hair  till  we  came  to 
Walcot  Church.  But  look  at  his  forehand;  look  at 
his  loins;  only  see  how  he  moves;  that  horse  can- 
not go  less  than  ten  miles  an  hour:  tie  his  legs, 
and  he  will  get  on.  What  do  you  think  of  my 
gig,  Miss  Morland?  a  neat  one,  is  not  it?  Well- 
hung,  town-built ;  I  have  not  had  it  a  month.  It 
was  built  for  a  Christ-church  man,  —  a  friend  of 
mine,  a  very  good  sort  of  fellow;  he  ran  it  a  few 
weeks,  till,  I  believe,  it  was  convenient  to  have 
done  with  it.  I  happened  just  then  to  be  looking 
out  for  some  light  thing  of  the  kind,  though  I  had 
pretty  well  determined  on  a  curricle  too;  but  I 
chanced  to  meet  him  on  IMagdalen  Bridge  as 
he  was  driving  into  Oxford,  last  term:  'Ah, 
Thorpe ! '  said  he,  *  do  you  happen  to  want  such  a 
little  thing  as  this?     It  is  a  capital  one  of  the 

^^ind,  but  I  am  cursed  tired  of  it.'     '  Oh!  d ,' 

said  I,  *  I  am  j'our  man ;  what  do  you  ask  ? ' 
And  how  much  do  you  think  he  did,  Miss 
Morland?  " 

*'  I  am  sure  I  cannot  guess  at  all." 

'' Curricle-hung,  j'-ou  see;  seat,  trunk,  sword- 
case,  splashing-board,  lamps,  silver  moulding,^ 
all,  you  see,  complete ;  the  iron-work  as  good  as  new, 
or  better.  He  asked  fifty  guineas.  I  closed  with 
him  directly,  threw  down  the  money,  and  the 
carriage  was  mine." 

''And  I  am  sure,"  said  Catherine,  "I  know  so 
little  of  such  things  that  I  cannot  judge  whether 
it  was  cheap  or  dear." 

"  Neither  one  nor  t'  other.     I  might  have  got  it 


48  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

for  less,  I  dare  say ;  but  I  hate  haggling,  and  poor 
Freeman  wanted  cash." 

*^That  was  very  good-natured  of  you,"  said 
Catherine,  quite  pleased. 

"  Oh,    d it !    when   one   has    the  means    of 

doing  a  kind  thing  by  a  friend,  I  hate  to  be 
pitiful." 

An  inquiry  now  took  place  into  the  intended 
movements  of  the  young  ladies;  and  on  finding 
whither  they  were  going,  it  was  decided  that  the 
gentlemen  should  accompany  them  to  Edgar's 
Buildings,  and  pay  their  respects  to  Mrs.  Thorpe. 
James  and  Isabella  led  the  way ;  and  so  well  satis- 
fied was  the  latter  with  her  lot,  so  contentedly  was 
she  endeavoring  to  insure  a  pleasant  walk  to  him 
who  brought  the  double  recommendation  of  being 
her  brother's  friend  and  her  friend's  brother,  so 
pure  and  uncoquettish  were  her  feelings,  that 
though  they  overtook  and  passed  the  two  offending 
young  men  in  Milsom  Street,  she  was  so  far  from 
seeking  to  attract  their  notice  that  she  looked 
back  at  them  only  three  times. 

John  Thorpe  kept  of  course  with  Catherine, 
and  after  a  few  minutes'  silence,  renewed  the 
conversation  about  his  gig.  ^^You  will  find,  how- 
ever. Miss  Morland,  it  would  be  reckoned  a  cheap 
thing  by  some  people,  for  I  might  have  sold  it  for 
ten  guineas  more  the  next  day:  Jackson,  of  Oriel, 
bid  me  sixty  at  once;  Morland  was  with  me  at 
the  time." 

**Yes,"  said  Morland,  who  overheard  this; 
'^but  you  forget  that  your  horse  was  included." 

<*My  horse!  oh,  d it!  I  would  not  sell  my 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  49 

horse  for  a  hundred.  Are  you  fond  of  an  open 
carriage,  Miss  Morland  ?  '^ 

''Yes,  very.  I  have  hardly  ever  an  opportunity 
of  being  in  one;  but  I  am  particularly  fond  of  it." 

''I  am  glad  of  it;  I  will  drive  you  out  in  mine 
every  day." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Catherine,  in  some  distress, 
from  a  doubt  of  the  propriety  of  accepting  such 
an  offer. 

''I  will  drive  you  up  Lansdown  Hill  to- 
morrow." 

''Thank  you;  but  will  not  your  horse  want 
rest?" 

"Kest!  he  has  only  come  three  and  twenty 
miles  to-day;  all  nonsense;  nothing  ruins  horses 
so  much  as  rest ;  nothing  knocks  them  up  so  soon. 
No,  no;  I  shall  exercise  mine  at  the  average  of 
ffl'ur  hours  every  day  while  I  am  here." 

"Shall  you  indeed!"  said  Catherine,  very  se- 
riously;   "that  will  be  forty  miles  a  day.'' 

"  Forty!  ay,  fifty,  for  what  I  care.  Well,  I  will 
drive  you  up  Lansdown  to-morrow;  mind,  I  am 
engaged." 

"How  delightful  that  w^ill  be!  "  cried  Isabella, 
turning  round.  "My  dearest  Catherine,  I  quite 
envy  you;  but  I  am  afraid,  brother,  you  will  not 
have  room  for  a  third." 

"  A  third,  indeed !  Ko,  no,  I  did  not  come  to 
Bath  to  drive  my  sisters  about;  that  would  be  a 
good  joke,  faith!  Morland  must  take  care  of 
you." 

This  brought  on  a  dialogue  of  civilities  between 
the  other  two;  but  Catherine  heard  neither  the 
4 


50  NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 

particulars  nor  the  result.  Her  companion's  dis- 
course now  sunk  from  its  hitherto  animated  pitch 
to  nothing  more  than  a  short  decisive  sentence  of 
praise  or  condemnation  on  the  face  of  every  woman 
they  met;  and  Catherine,  after  listening  and 
agreeing  as  long  as  she  could,  with  all  the  civility 
and  deference  of  the  youthful  female  mind,  fearful 
of  hazarding  an  opinion  of  its  own  in  opposition 
to  that  of  a  self-assured  man,  esjiecially  where  the 
beauty  of  her  own  sex  is  concerned,  ventured  at 
length  to  vary  the  subject  by  a  question  which  had 
been  long  uppermost  in  her  thoughts;  it  was, 
'^Have  you  ever  read  Udolpho,  Mr.  Thorpe  ?  " 

^'Udolpho!  Oh,  Lord!  not  I.  I  never  read 
novels;  I  have   something  else  to  do." 

Catherine,  humbled  and  ashamed,  was  going  to 
apologize  for  her  question;  but  he  prevented  her 
by  sajnng,  ''Novels  are  all  so  full  of  nonsense 
and  stuff;  there  has  not  been  a  tolerably  decent 
one  come  out  since  Tom  Jones,  except  jthe  Monk : 
I  read  that  t'other  day;  but  as  for  all  the  others, 
they  are  the  stupidest  things   in  creation." 

''I  think  you  must  like  Udolpho,  if  you  were 
to  read  it;  it  is  so  veiy  interesting." 

''Not  I,  faith!  No,  if  I  read  any,  it  shall  be 
Mrs.  Kadcliffe's:  her  novels  are  amusing  enough; 
they  are  worth  reading;  some  fun  and  nature  in 
them."  /I 

"Udolpho  was  written  by  Mrs.  Radcliffe,"  said^' 
Catherine,  with  some  hesitation,  from  the  fear  of 
mortifying  him. 

"No,  sure;  was  it?  Ay,  I  remember,  so  it 
was;  I  was  thinking  of  that  other  stupid  book. 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.  51 

written   by   that  woman  they  made  such    a   fuss 
about,  — she  who  married  the  French  emigrant." 

^^I  suppose  you  mean  Camilla?" 

''Yes,  that's  the  book;  such  unnatural  stuff!  — 
An  old  man  playing  at  see-saw.  I  took  up  the 
first  volume  once,  and  looked  it  over,  but  I  soon 
found  it  would  not  do;  indeed,  I  guessed  what 
sort  of  stuff  it  must  be  before  I  saw  it :  as  soon  as 
I  heard  she  had  married  an  emigrant,  I  was  sure 
I  should  never  be  able  to   get   through  it." 

''I  have  never  read  it." 

"You  had  no  loss,  I  assure  you;  it  is  the  hor- 
ridest  nonsense  you  can  imagine;  there  is  nothing 
in  the  world  in  it  but  an  old  man's  playing  at  see- 
saw and  learning  Latin,  — upon  my  soul,  there 
is  not." 

This  critique,  the  justness  of  which  was  un- 
fortunately lost  on  poor  Catherine,  brought  them 
to  the  door  of  Mrs.  Thorpe's  lodgings;  and  the 
feelings  of  the  discerning  and  unprejudiced  reader 
of  Camilla  gave  way  to  the  feelings  of  the  dutiful 
and  affectionate  son,  as  they  met  Mrs.  Thorpe, 
who  had  descried  them  from  above,  in  the  passage. 
''Ah,  mother!  how  do  you  do?"  said  he,  giving 
her  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand.  "Where  did  yon 
get  that  quiz  of  a  hat?  It  makes  you  look  like  an 
old  witch.  Here  is  Morland  and  I  come  to  stay 
a  few  days  with  you ;  so  you  must  look  out  for  a 
couple  of  good  beds  somewhere  near."  And  this 
address  seemed  to  satisfy  all  the  fondest  wishes  of 
the  mother's  heart,  for  she  received  him  with  the 
most  delighted  and  exulting  affection.  On  his 
two  younger  sisters  he    then   bestowed  an   equal 


>^ 


52  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


portion  of  his  fraternal  tenderness ;  for  lie  asked 
eacli  of  them  how  they  did,  and  observed  that  they 
both  looked  very  ugly. 

These  manners  did  not  please  Catherine ;  but  he 
was  James's  friend  and  Isabella's  brother;  and  her 
judgment  was  further  bought  off  by  Isabella's 
assuring  her,  when  they  withdrew  to  see  the  new 
hat,  that  John  thought  her  the  most  charming 
girl  in  the  world,  and  by  John's  engaging  her 
before  they  parted  to  dance  with  him  that  even- 
ing. Had  she  been  older  or  vainer,  such  attacks 
might  have  done  little ;  but  where  youth  and  diffi- 
dence are  united,  it  requires  uncommon  steadiness 
of  reason  to  resist  the  attraction  of  being  called 
the  most  charming  girl  in  the  world,  and  of  being 
so  very  early  engaged  as  a  partner;  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  when  the  two  Morlands,  after 
sitting  an  hour  with  the  Thorpes,  set  off  to  walk 
together  to  Mr.  Allen's,  and  James,  as  the  door 
was  closed  on  them,  said,  ^^  Well,  Catherine,  how 
do  you  like  my  friend  Thorpe?"  instead  of  answer- 
ing, as  she  probably  would  have  done,  had  there 
been  no  friendship  and  no  flattery  in  the  case, 
**I  do  not  like  him  at  all,"  she  directly  replied, 
**I  like  him  very  much;  he  seems  very  agreeable. " 

'^Heis  as  good-natured  a  fellow  as  ever  lived, — 
a  little  of  a  rattle;  but  that  will  recommend  him  to 
your  sex,  I  believe.  And  how  do  you  like  the  rest 
of  the  family?  " 

'^Very,  very  much  indeed, — Isabella  particu- 
larly." 

^^  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  so;  she  is  just 
the  kind  of  young  woman  I  could  wish  to  see  you 


NORTHAN(^ER  ABBEY.  53 

attached  to;  she  has  so  much  good  sense,  and  is 
so  thoroughly  unaffected  and  amiable.  I  always 
wanted  you  to  know  her;  and  she  seems  very  fond 
of  you.  She  said  the  highest  things  in  your  praise 
that  could  possibly  be;  and  the  praise  of  such  a 
girl  as  Miss  Thorpe  even  you,  Catherine,'^  taking 
her  hand  with  affection,  '^  may  be  proud  of." 

*^  Indeed  I  am,"  she  replied;  '^I  love  her  ex- 
ceedingly, and  am  delighted  to  find  that  you  like 
her  too.  You  hardly  mentioned  anything  of  her 
when  you  wrote  to  me  after  your  visit  there." 

^*  Because  I  thought  I  should  soon  see  you  my- 
self. I  hope  you  will  be  a  great  deal  together 
while  you  are  in  Bath.  She  is  a  most  amiable 
girl;  such  a  superior  understanding!  How  fond 
all  the  family  are  of  her!  She  is  evidently  the 
general  favorite;  and  how  much  she  must  be  ad- 
mired in  such  a  place  as  this,  — is  not  she?" 

*'Yes,  very  much  indeed,  I  fancy;  Mr.  Allen 
thinks  her  the  prettiest  girl  in  Bath." 

^'1  dare  say  he  does;  and  I  do  not  know  any 
man  who  is  a  better  judge  of  beauty  than  Mr. 
Allen.  I  need  not  ask  you  whether  you  are  happy 
here,  my  dear  Catherine;  with  such  a  companion 
and  friend  as  Isabella  Thorpe,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  you  to  be  otherwise ;  and  the  Aliens,  I  am 
sure,  are  very  kind  to  you.'' 

^' Yes,  very  kind;  I  never  was  so  happy  before; 
and  now  you  are  come,  it  will  be  more  delightful 
than  ever :  how  good  it  is  of  you  to  come  so  far  on 
purpose  to  see  me !  " 

James  accepted  this  tribute  of  gratitude,  and 
qualified  his  conscience  for  accepting  it  too,   by 


54  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

saying  with  perfect  sincerity,  '^Indeed,  Catherine, 
I  love  you  dearly." 

Inquiries  and  communications  concerning  broth- 
ers and  sisters,  the  situation  of  some,  the  growth 
of  the  rest,  and  other  family  matters,  now  passed 
between  them,  and  continued,  with  only  one  small 
digression  on  James's  part  in  praise  of  Miss 
Thorpe,  till  they  reached  Pulteney  Street,  where 
he  was  welcomed  with  great  kindness  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Allen,  invited  by  the  former  to  dine  with 
them,  and  summoned  by  the  latter  to  guess  the 
price  and  weigh  the  merits  of  a  new  muff  and 
tippet.  A  pre-engagement  in  Edgar's  Buildings 
prevented  his  accepting  the  invitation  of  one 
friend,  and  obliged  him  to  hurry  away  as  soon  as 
he  had  satisfied  the  demands  of  the  other.  The 
time  of  the  two  parties'  uniting  iu  the  octagon 
room  being  correctly  adjusted,  Catherine  was  then 
left  to  the  luxury  of  a  raised,  restless,  and  fright- 
ened imagination  over  the  pages  of  Udolpho,  lost 
from  all  worldly  concerns  of  dressing  and  dinner, 
incapable  of  soothing  Mrs.  Allen's  fears  on  the 
delay  of  an  expected  dressmaker,  and  having  only 
one  minute  in  sixty  to  bestow  even  on  the  reflec- 
tion of  her  own  felicity  in  being  already  engaged 
for  the  evening. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  55 


I 


CIIAPTEE  VIII. 


In  spite  of  Udolplio  and  the  dressmaker,  however, 
the  party  from  Pulteney  Street  reached  the  Upper 
Booms  in  very  good  time.  The  Thorpes  and  James 
i  Morland  were  there  only  two  minutes  before  them; 
and  Isabella  having  gone  through  the  usual  cere- 
monial of  meeting  her  friend  with  the  most  smil- 
ing and  affectionate  haste^  of  admiring  the  set  of 
her  gown  and  envying  thfe  curl  of  her  hair,  they 
followed  their  chaperons,  ;arm  in  arm,  into  the 
ball-room,  whispering  to  each  other  whenever  a 
thought  occurred,  and  supplying  the  place  of  many 
ideas  by  a  squeeze  of  the  hand  or  a  smile  of 
affection. 

The  dancing  began  within  a  few  minutes  after 
they  were  seated;  and  James,,  who  had  been  en- 
gaged quite  as  long  as  his  sistfijL  was  very  importu- 
nate with  Isabella  to  stand  upjrbut  John  was  gone 
into  the  card-room  to  speak  t6'  a  friend,  and  noth- 
ing, she  declared,  should  induce  her  to  join  the 
set  before  her  dear  Catherine  could  join  it  too.  "1 
assure  you,"  said  she,  ^^I  would  not  stand  up 
without  your  dear  sister,  for  all  the  world;  for  if  I 
did,  we  should  certainly  be  separated  the  whole 
evening.''  Catherine  accepted  this  kindness  with 
gratitude,  and  they  continued  as  they  were  for 
three  minutes  longer,  when  Isabella,  who  had  been 
talking  to  James  on  the  other  side  of  her,  turned 


56  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

again  to  his  sister  and  whispered,  ^^My  dear 
creature,  I  am  afraid  I  must  leave  you,  your 
brother  is  so  amazingly  impatient  to  begin;  I  know 
you  will  not  mind  my  going  away,  and  I  dare  say 
John  will  be  back  in  a  moment,  and  then  you  may 
easily  find  me  out."  Catherine,  though  a  little 
disappointed,  had  too  much  good  nature  to  make 
any  opposition,  and,  the  others  rising  up,  Isabella 
had  only  time  to  press  her  friend's  hand  and  say, 
^^Good-by,  my  dear  love,"  before  they  hurried 
off.  The  younger  Miss  Thorpes  being  also  danc- 
ing, Catherine  was  left  to  the  mercy  of  Mrs. 
Thorpe  and  Mrs.  Allen,  between  whom  she  now 
remained.  She  could  not  help  being  vexed  at  the, 
non-appearance  of  Mr.  Thorpe;  for  she  not  only 
longed  to  be  dancing,  but  was  likewise  aware  that 
as  the  real  dignity  of  her  situation  could  not  be 
known,  she  was  sharing  with  the  scores  of  other 
young  ladies  still  sitting  down  all  the  discredit  of; 
wanting  a  partner.  To  be  disgraced  in  the  eye  of 
the  world,  to  wear  the  appearance  of  infamy  while, 
her  heart  is  all  purity,  her  actions  all  innocence, 
and  the  misconduct  of  another  the  true  source  oi 
her  debasement,  is  one  of  those  circumstances 
which  peculiarly  belong  to  the  heroine's  life,  and 
her  fortitude  under  it  what  particularly  dignifies 
her  character.  Catherine  had  fortitude  too;  she 
suffered,   but  no  murmur  passed  her  lips. 

From  this  state  of  humiliation  she  was  roused, 
at  the  end  of  ten  minutes,  to  a  pleasanter  feeling,: 
by  seeing,  not  Mr.  Thorpe,  but  Mr.  Tilney,  withiu 
three  yards  of  the  place  where  they  sat :  he  seemed 
to  be  moving  that  way,  but  he  did  not  see  her, 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.      ■  57 

and  therefore  tlie  smile  and  the  blusli  wliicli  his 
sudden  reappearance  raised  in  Catherine  passed 
away  without  sullying  her  heroic  importance.  He 
looked  as  handsome  and  as  lively  as  ever,  and  was 
talking  with  interest  to  a  fashionable  and  pleasing- 
looking  young  w^oman,  who  leant  on  his  arm,  and 
whom  Catherine  immediately  guessed  to  he  his 
sister;  thus  unthinkingly  throwing  away  a  fair 
opportunity  of  considering  him  lost  to  her  forever, 
by  being  married  already.  But,  guided  only  by 
what  was  simple  and  probable,  it  had  never  entered 
her  head  that  Mr.  Tilney  could  be  married;  he  had 
Qot  behaved,  he  had  not  talked,  like  the  married 
men  to  whom  she  had  been  used;  he  had  never 
mentioned  a  wife,  and  he  had  acknowledged  a 
jister.  Erom  these  circumstances  sprang  the  in- 
stant conclusion  of  his  sister's  now  being  by  his 
jide;  and  therefore,  instead  of  turning  of  a  death- 
ike  paleness,  and  falling  in  a  fit  on  Mrs.  Allen's 
)osom,  Catherine  sat  erect,  in  the  perfect  use  of 
ler  senses,  and  with  cheeks  only  a  little  redder 
ihan  usual. 

Mr.  Tilney  and  his  companion,  who  continued, 
hough  slowly,  to  approach,  were  immediately  pre- 
;eded  by  a  lady,  an  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Thorpe; 
i,nd  this  lady  stopping  to*  speak  to  her,  they,  as 
)elonging  to  her,  stopped  likewise,  and  Catherine, 
latching  Mr.  Tilney's  eye,  instantly  received  from 
lim  the  smiling  tribute  of  recognition.  She  re- 
urned  it  with  pleasure,  and  then  advancing  still 
learer  he  spoke  both  to  her  and  Mrs.  Allen,  by 
v^hom  he  was  very  civilly  acknowledged.  ^'1  am 
ery  happy  to  see  you  again,  sir,   indeed;    I  was 


58  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

afraid  you  had  left  Bath.''  He  thanked  her  for 
her  fears,  and  said  that  he  had  quitted  it  for  a 
week,  on  the  very  morning  after  his  having  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  her. 

''Well,  sir,  and  I  dare  say  you  are  not  sorry  to 
be  back  again,  for  it  is  just  the  place  for  young 
people;  and,  indeed,  for  everybody  else  too.  I 
tell  Mr.  Allen,  when  he  talks  of  being  sick  of  it, 
that  I  am  sure  he  should  not  complain,  for  it  is  so 
very  agreeable  a  place  that  it  is  much  better  to  be 
here  than  at  home  at  this  dull  time  of  year.  I  tell 
him  he  is  quite  in  luck  to  be  sent  here  for  his 
health." 

*'And  I  hope,  madam,  that  Mr.  Allen  will  be 
obliged  to  like  the  place,  from  finding  it  of  service 
to  him.'' 

*'  Thank  you,  sir.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he 
will.  A  neighbor  of  ours,  Dr.  Skinner,  was  here 
for  his  health  last  winter,  and  came  away  quite 
stout." 

''That  circumstance  must  give  great  encourage- 
ment." 

"Yes,  sir;  and  Dr.  Skinner  and  his  family  were 
here  three  months:  so  I  tell  Mr.  Allen  he  must 
not  be  in  a  hurry  to  get  away." 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  a  request  from 
Mrs.  Thorpe  to  Mrs.  Allen,  that  she  would  move 
a  little  to  accommodate  Mrs.  Hughes  and  Miss 
Tilney  with  seats,  as  they  had  agreed  to  join  their 
party.  This  was  accordingly  done,  Mr.  Tilney 
still  continuing  standing  before  them;  and  after 
a  few  minutes'  consideration,  he  asked  Catherine 
to  dance  with  him.     This  compliment,  delightful, 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  59 

as  it  was,  produced  severe  mortification  to  the 
lady;  and  in  giving  her  denial,  she  expressed  her 
sorrow  on  the  occasion  so  very  much  as  if  she 
really  felt  it,  that  had  Thorpe,  who  joined  her  just 
afterwards,  heen  half  a  minute  earlier,  he  might 
have  thought  her  sufferings  rather  too  acute.  The 
very  easy  manner  in  which  he  then  told  her  that 
he  had  kept  her  waiting,  did  not  by  any  means 
reconcile  her  more  to  her  lot;  nor  did  the  particu- 
lars which  he  entered  into  while  they  were  stand- 
ing up,  of  the  horses  and  dogs  of  the  friend  whom 
he  had  just  left,  and  of  a  proposed  exchange  of 
terriers  between  them,  interest  her  so  much  as  to 
prevent  her  looking  very  often  towards  that  part 
of  the  room  where  she  had  left  Mr.  Tilney.  Of 
her  dear  Isabella,  to  whom  she  particularly  longed 
to  point  out  that  gentleman,  she  could  see  nothing. 
They  were  in  different  sets.  She  was  separated 
from  all  her  party,  and  away  from  all  her  acquaint- 
ance: one  mortification  succeeded  another;  and 
from  the  whole  she  deduced  this  useful  lesson,  that 
to  go  previously  engaged  to  a  ball  does  not  neces- 
sarily increase  either  the  dignity  or  enjoyment  of 
a  young  lady.  From  such  a  moralizing  strain  as 
this  she  was  suddenly  roused  by  a  touch  on  the 
shoulder;  and  turning  round,  perceived  Mrs. 
Hughes  directly  behind  her,  attended  by  Miss 
Tilney  and  a  gentleman.  *'I  beg  3-our  pardon. 
Miss  Morland,"  said  she,  ''ior  this  liberty,  but  I 
cannot  anyhow  get  to  Miss  Thorpe;  and  Mrs. 
Thorpe  said  she  was  sure  you  would  not  have  the 
least  objection  to  letting  in  this  young  lady  by 
you."      Mrs.   Hughes   could  not  have  applied  to 


60  NORTHANGEE  ABBEY. 

any  creature  in  the  room  more  liapp}'-  to  oblige  her 
than  Catherine.  The  young  ladies  were  intro- 
duced to  each  other,  —  Miss  Tilney  expressing 
a  proper  sense  of  such  goodness;  Miss  Morland, 
with  the  real  delicacy  of  a  generous  mind,  making 
light  of  the  obligation,  — and  Mrs.  Hughes,  satis- 
fied with  having  so  respectably  settled  her  young 
charge,   returned  to  her  party. 

Miss  Tilney  had  a  good  figure,  a  pretty  face, 
and  a  very  agreeable  countenance;  and  her  air, 
though  it  had  not  all  the  decided  pretension,  the 
resolute  stylishness,  of  Miss  Thorpe's,  had  more 
real  elegance.  Her  manners  showed  good  sense 
and  good  breeding;  they  were  neither  shy  nor 
affectedly  open ;  and  she  seemed  capable  of  being 
young,  attractive,  and  at  a  ball  without  wanting  to 
fix  the  attention  of  every  man  near  her,  and  without 
exaggerated  feelings  of  ecstatic  delight  or  incon- 
ceivable vexation  on  every  little  trifling  occurrence. 
Catherine,  interested  at  once  by  her  appearance 
and  relationship  to  Mr.  Tilnej^,  was  desirous  of 
being  acquainted  with  her,  and  readily  talked, 
therefore,  whenever  she  could  think  of  anything  to 
say,  and  had  courage  and  leisure  for  saying  it. 
But  the  hindrance  thrown  in  the  way  of  a  very 
speedy  intimacy,  by  the  frequent  want  of  one  or 
more  of  these  requisites,  prevented  their  doing  more 
than  going  through  the  first  rudiments  of  an  ac- 
quaintance, by  informing  themselves  how  well  the 
other  liked  Bath,  how  much  she  admired  its  build- 
ings and  surrounding  country;  whether  she  drew, 
or  played,  or  sang,  and  whether  she  was  fond  of 
riding  on  horseback. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  61 

The  t^yo  dances  were  scarcely  concluded,  before 
Catherine  found  her  arm  gently  seized  by  her 
faithful  Isabella,  who  in  great  spirits  exclaimed: 
"At  last  I  have  got  you.  My  dearest  creature,  I 
have  been  looking  for  you  this  hour.  What  could 
induce  you  to  come  into  this  set,  when  you  knew  I 
was  in  the  other?  I  have  been  quite  wretched 
without  you.'' 

"My  dear  Isabella,  how  was  it  possible  for  me 
to  get  at  you?  I  could  not  even  see  where  you 
were." 

"  So  I  told  your  brother  all  the  time,  but  he 
would  not  believe  me.  'Do  go  and  see  for  her, 
Mr.  Morland,'  said  I;  but  all  in  vain,  he  would 
not  stir  an  inch.  Was  not  it  so,  Mr.  Morland? 
But  you  men  are  all  so  immoderately  lazy!  I 
have  been  scolding  him  to  such  a  degree,  my  dear 
Catherine,  you  would  be  quite  amazed.  You 
know  I  never  stand  upon  ceremony  with  such 
people.'' 

"Look  at  that  young  lady  with  the  white  beads 
round  her  head,"  whispered  Catherine,  detaching 
her  friend  from  James;  "it  is  Mr.  Tilney's 
sister." 

"Oh,  heavens!  you  don't  say  so!  Let  me  look 
at  her  this  moment.  What  a  delightful  girl!  I 
never  saw  anything  half  so  beautiful !  But  where 
is  her  all-conquering  brother?  Is  he  in  the  room? 
Point  him  out  to  me  this  instant,  if  he  is ;  I  die  to 
see  him.  Mr.  Morland,  you  are  not  to  listen;  Ave 
are  not  talking  about  you." 

"But  what  is  all  this  whispering  about?  What 
is  going  on?" 


62  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

'^  There  now,  I  knew  how  it  would  be.  You 
men  have  such  restless  curiosity.  Talk  of  the  curi- 
osity of  women,  indeed!  —  'tis  nothing.  But  be 
satisfied;  for  you  are  not  to  know  anything  at  all 
of  the  matter.'' 

*'And  is  that  likely  to  satisfy  me,  do  you 
think?  " 

"Well,  I  declare,  I  never  knew  anything  like 
you.  What  can  it  signify  to  you,  what  we  are 
talking  of?  Perhaps  we  are  talking  about  you; 
therefore  I  would  advise  you  not  to  listen,  or  you 
may  happen  to  hear  something  not  very  agreeable." 

In  this  commonplace  chatter,  which  lasted  some 
time,  the  original  subject  seemed  entirely  forgot- 
ten; and  though  Catherine  was  very  well  pleased 
to  have  it  dropped  for  a  while,  she  could  not  avoid 
a  little  suspicion  at  the  total  suspension  of  all 
Isabella's  impatient  desire  to  see  Mr.  Tilney. 
When  the  orchestra  struck  up  a  fresh  dance,  James 
would  have  led  his  fair  partner  away,  but  she 
resisted.  "I  tell  you,  Mr.  Morland,"  she  cried, 
^^I  would  not  do  such  a  thing  for  all  the  world. 
How  can  you  be  so  teasing!  Only  conceive,  my 
dear  Catherine,  what  your  brother  wants  me  to  do? 
He  wants  me  to  dance  with  him  again,  though  I 
tell  him  that  it  is  a  most  improper  thing,  and  en- 
tirely against  the  rules.  It  would  make  us  the 
talk  of  the  place,  if  we  were  not  to  change 
partners." 

"Upon  my  honor,"  said  James,  "in  these  pub- 
lic assemblies  it  is  as  often  done  as  not." 

"Nonsense,  how  can  you  say  so?  But  when 
you  men  have  a  point  to  carry,  you  never  stick  at 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  63 

anything.  My  sweet  Catherine,  do  support  me; 
persuade  joux  brother  how  impossible  it  is.  Tell 
him  that  it  would  quite  shock  you  to  see  me  do 
such  a  thing;  now  would  not  it?'' 

"No,  not  at  all;  but  if  you  think  it  wrong,  you 
had  much  better  change." 

"There,"  cried  Isabella,  "you  hear  what  your 
sister  says,  and  yet  you  will  not  mind  her.  Well, 
remember  that  it  is  not  my  fault,  if  we  set  all  the 
old  ladies  in  Bath  in  a  bustle.  Come  along,  my 
dearest  Catherine,  for  heaven's  sake,  and  stand  by 
me."  And  off  they  went  to  regain  their  former 
place.  John  Thorpe,  in  the  mean  while,  had 
walked  away ;  and  Catherine,  ever  willing  to  give 
Mr.  Tilney  an  ojiportunity  of  repeating  the  agree- 
able request  which  had  already  flattered  her  once, 
made  her  way  to  Mrs.  Allen  and  Mrs.  Thorpe  as 
fast  as  she  could,  in  the  hope  of  finding  him  still 
with  them,  — a  hope  which,  when  it  proved  to  be 
fruitless,  she  felt  to  have  been  highly  unreason- 
able. "Well,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Thorpe,  im- 
patient for  praise  of  her  son,  "I  hope  you  have 
had  an  agreeable  partner." 

"Very  agreeable,  madam." 

"lam  glad  of  it.  John  has  charming  spirits, 
has  not  he?  " 

"Did  you  meet  Mr.  Tilney,  my  dear?"  said 
Mrs.  Allen. 

"No;  where  is  he?  " 

"He  was  with  us  just  now,  and  said  he  was  so 
tired  of  lounging  about,  that  he  was  resolved  to  go 
and  dance ;  so  I  thought  perhaps  he  would  ask  you, 
if  he  met  with  you." 


64  NORTHANGER  AEBEY. 

*^Wliere  can  he  be?"  said  Catherine,  loolving 
round;  but  she  had  not  looked  round  long,  before 
she  saw  him  leading  a  young  lady  to  the  dance. 

^*  Ah !  he  has  got  a  partner:  T  wish  he  had  asked 
you,"  said  Mrs.  Allen;  and  after  a  short  silence 
she  added,  ^'He  is  a  very  agreeable  young  man." 
*^  Indeed  he  is,  Mrs.  Allen,"  said  Mrs.  Thorpe, 
smiling  complacently;  "1  must  say  it,  though  I 
am  his  mother,  that  there  is  not  a  more  agreeable 
young  man  in  the  world." 

This  inapplicable  answer  might  have  been  too 
much  for  the  comprehension  of  many;  but  it  did 
not  puzzle  Mrs.  Allen;  for  after  only  a  moment's 
consideration,  she  said,  in  a  whisper,  to  Catherine, 
*'I  dare  say  she  thought  I  was  speaking  of  her 
son.'' 

Catherine  was  disappointed  and  vexed.  She 
seemed  to  have  missed,  by  so  little,  the  very 
object  she  had  had  in  view;  and  this  persuasion 
did  not  incline  her  to  a  very  gracious  reply,  when 
John  Thorpe  came  up  to  her  soon  afterwards,  and 
said,  ^^Well,  Miss  Morland,  I  suppose  you  and  I 
are  to  stand  up  and  jig  it  together  again?  " 

^'Oh,  no;  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  our  tv/o 
dances  are  over;  and,  besides,  I  am  tired,  and  do 
not  mean  to  dance  any  more. " 

**Do  not  you?  —  then  let  us  walk  about  and  quiz 
people.  Come  along  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you 
the  four  greatest  quizzes  in  the  room,  —  my  two 
younger  sisters  and  their  partners.  I  have  been 
laughing  at  them  this  half-hour." 

Again  Catherine  excused  herself;  and  at  last  he 
walked  off  to  quiz  his   sisters   by  himself.     The 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  65 

rest  of  the  evening  she  found  very  dull;  Mr. 
Tilney  was  drawn  away  from  their  party  at  tea  to 
attend  that  of  his  partner;  Miss  Tilney,  though 
belonging  to  it,  did  not  sit  near  her;  and  James 
and  Isabella  were  so  much  engaged  in  conversing 
together,  that  the  latter  had  no  leisure  to  bestow 
more  on  her  friend  than  one  smile,  one  squeeze, 
and  one  ^'dearest  Catherine/' 


66  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

The  progress  of  Catherine's  unhappiness  from 
the  events  of  the  evening  was  as  follows.  It 
appeared  first  in  a  general  dissatisfaction  with 
everybody  about  her  while  she  remained  in  the 
rooms,  which  speedily  brought  on  considerable 
weariness  and  a  violent  desire  to  go  home.  This, 
on  arriving  in  Pulteney  Street,  took  the  direction 
of  extraordinary  hunger,  and  when  that  was  ap- 
peased, changed  into  an  earnest  longing  to  be  in 
bed:  such  was  the  extreme  point  of  her  distress;  for 
when  there,  she  immediately  fell  into  a  sound 
sleep,  which  lasted  nine  hours,  and  from  which  she 
awoke  perfectly  revived,  in  excellent  spirits,  with 
fresh  hopes  and  fresh  schemes.  The  first  wish  of 
her  heart  was  to  improve  her  acquaintance  with 
Miss  Tilney,  and  almost  her  first  resolution  to 
seek  her  for  that  purpose  in  the  Pump-room  at 
noon.  In  the  Pump-room  one  so  newly  arrived  in 
Bath  must  be  met  with;  and  that  building  she  had 
already  found  so  favorable  for  the  discovery  of 
female  excellence,  and  the  completion  of  female 
intimacy,  so  admirably  adapted  for  secret  discourses 
and  unlimited  confidence,  that  she  was  most  rea^ 
sonably  encouraged  to  expect  another  friend  from 
within  its  walls.  Her  plan  for  the  morning  thus 
settled,    she   sat  quietly   down  to  her  book   after 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  67* 

breakfast,  resolving  to  remain  in  the  same  place 
and  the  same  employment  till  the  clock  struck  one; 
and  from  habitude  very  little  incommoded  by  the 
remarks  and  ejaculations  of  Mrs.  Allen,  whose 
vacancy  of  mind  and  incapacity  for  thinking  were 
such  that  as  she  never  talked  a  great  deal,  so  she 
could  never  be  entirely  silent ;  and  therefore,  while 
she  sat  at  her  work,  if  she  lost  her  needle  or  broke 
her  thread,  if  she  heard  a  carriage  in  the  street  or 
saw  a  speck  upon  her  gown,  she  must  observe  it 
aloud,  whether  there  were  any  one  at  leisure  to 
answer  her  or  not.  At  about  half-past  twelve,  a 
remarkably  loud  rap  drew  her  in  haste  to  tho 
window;  and  scarcely  had  she  time  to  inform 
Catherine  of  there  being  two  open  carriages  at  the 
door,  in  the  first  only  a  servant,  her  brother  driv- 
ing Miss  Thorpe  in  the  second,  before  John  Thorpe 
came  running  upstairs,  calling  out,  ^*  Well,  Miss 
Morland,  here  I  am.  Have  you  been  waiting  long? 
We  could  not  come  before ;  the  old  devil  of  a  coach- 
maker  was  such  an  eternity  finding  out  a  thing 
fit  to  be  got  into,  and  now  it  is  ten  thousand  to  one 
but  they  break  down  before  we  are  out  of  the  street. 
How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Allen?  A  famous  ball  last 
night,  was  not  it?  Come,  Miss  Morland,  be  quick, 
for  the  others  are  in  a  confounded  hurry  to  be  off. 
They  want  to  get  their  tumble  over." 

*^  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Catherine;  ''where 
are  you  all  going  ^q?  " 

"  Going  'Q)  Why,  you  have  not  forgot  our 
engagement?  Did  not  we  agree  together  to  take 
a  drive  this  morning?  What  a  head  you  have! 
We  are  going  up  Claverton  Down." 


68  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

'^  Sometliing  was  said  about  it,  I  remember/' 
said  Catherine,  looking  at  Mrs.  Allen  for  her 
opinion;  ^^but  really  I  did  not  expect  you." 

^^Not  expect  me!  that's  a  good  one!  And 
what  a  dust  you  would  have  made  if  I  had  not 
come!  '' 

Catherine's  silent  appeal  to  her  friend,  mean- 
while, was  entirely  thrown  away;  for  Mrs.  Allen, 
not  being  at  all  in  the  habit  of  conveying  any 
expression  herself  by  a  look,  was  not  aware  of  its 
being  ever  intended  by  anybody  else ;  and  Catherine, 
whose  desire  of  seeing  Miss  Tilney  again  could  at 
that  moment  bear  a  short  delay  in  favor  of  a  drive, 
and  who  thought  there  could  be  no  impropriety  in 
her  going  with  Mr.  Thorpe,  as  Isabella  was  go- 
ing at  the  same  time  with  James,  was  therefore 
obliged  to  speak  plainer.  ''Well,  ma'am,  what  do 
you  say  to  it?  Can  you  spare  me  for  an  hour  or 
two?     Shall  I  go?" 

''  Do  just  as  you  please,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs. 
Allen,  with  the  most  placid  indifference.  Cather- 
ine took  the  advice,  and  ran  off  to  get  ready.  In 
a  very  few  minutes  she  reappeared,  having 
scarcely  allowed  the  two  others  time  enough  to  get 
through  a  few  short  sentences  in  her  praise,  after 
Thorpe  had  procured  Mrs.  Allen's  admiration  of 
his  gig;  and  then,  receiving  her  friend's  parting 
good  wishes,  they  both  hurried  downstairs.  '*  M}- 
dearest  creature,"  cried  Isabella,  to  whom  the 
duty  of  friendship  immediately  called  her  before 
she  could  get  into  the  carriage,  ^'  you  have  been  at 
least  three  hours  getting  ready;  I  was  afraid  you 
were   ill.     What  a  delightful    ball  we   had   last 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  69 

night!     I  have  a  thousand  things  to  say  to  you; 
but  make  haste  and  get  in,  for  I  long  to  be  off.'' 

Catherine  followed  her  orders  and  turned  away, 
but  not  too  soon  to  hear  her  friend  exclaim  aloud 
to  James,  ^*  What  a  sweet  girl  she  is!  I  quite 
dote  on  her/' 
I  '*You  will  not  be  frightened,  Miss  Morland," 
1  said  Thorpe,  as  he  handed  her  in,  ''if  my  horse 
should  dance  about  a  little  at  first  setting  off.  He 
will,  most  likely,  give  a  plunge  or  two,  and 
perhaps  take  the  rest  for  a  minute;  but  he  will 
soon  know  his  master.  He  is  full  of  spirits,  play- 
ful as  can  be,  but  there  is  no  vice  in  him. " 

Catherine  did  not  think  the  portrait  a  very  invit- 
ing one,  but  it  was  too  late  to  retreat,  and  she  was 
too  young  to  own  herself  frightened;  so,  resigning 
herself  to  her  fate,  and  trusting  to  the  animal's 
boasted  knowledge  of  its  owner,  she  sat  peaceably 
down,  and  saw  Thorpe  sit  down  by  her.  Every- 
thing being  then  arranged,  the  servant  who  stood 
at  the  horse's  head  was  bid  in  an  important  voice 
*'to  let  him  go;"  and  off  they  went  in  the  quietest 
manner  imaginable,  without  a  plunge  or  a  caper, 
or  anything  like  one.  Catherine,  delighted  at  so 
happy  an  escape,  spoke  her  pleasure  aloud  with 
grateful  surprise ;  and  her  companion  immediately 
made  the  matter  perfectly  simple  by  assuring  her 
that  it  was  entirely  owing  to  the  peculiarly  judicious 
manner  in  which  he  had  then  held  the  reins,  and 
the  singular  discernment  and  dexterity  with  which 
he  had  directed  his  whip.  Catherine,  though  she 
\  could  not  help  wondering  that  with  such  perfect 
command  of  his  horse  he  should  think  it  necessary 


70  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

to  alarm  lier  with  a  relation  of  its  tricks,  congratu- 
lated herself  sincerely  on  being  under  the  care  of  so 
excellent  a  coachman;  and  perceiving  that  the  ani- 
mal continued  to  go  on  in  the  same  quiet  manner, 
without  showing  the  smallest  propensity  towards 
any  unpleasant  vivacity,  and  (considering  its  in- 
evitable pace  was  ten  miles  an  hour)  by  no  means 
alarmingly  fast,  gave  herself  up  to  all  the  enjoy- 
ment of  air  and  exercise  of  the  most  invigorating 
kind  in  a  fine  mild  day  of  February,  with  the 
consciousness  of  safety.  A  silence  of  several 
minutes  succeeded  their  first  short  dialogue;  it 
was  broken  by  Thorpe^s  saying  very  abruptly, 
**  Old  Allen  is  as  rich  as  a  Jew,  is  not  he? '' 
Catherine  did  not  understand  him;  and  he  re- 
peated his  question,  adding,  in  explanation,  *^  Old 
Allen,   the  man  you  are  with.'' 

*'0h,  Mr.  Allen,  you  mean.  Yes,  I  believe  he 
is  very  rich.'' 

''And  no  children  at  all?" 

''No,  — not  any." 

"A  famous  thing  for  his  next  heirs.  He  is 
your  godfather,  is  not  he?  " 

"My  godfather,  — no." 

"But  you  are  always  very  much  with  them." 

"  Yes,  very  much." 

"Ay,  that  is  what  T  meant.  He  seems  a  good 
kind  of  old  fellow  enough,  and  has  lived  very  well 
in  his  time,  I  dare  say;  he  is  not  gouty  for  noth- 
ing.    Does  he  drink  his  bottle  a  day  now?  " 

"His  bottle  a  day?  No.  Why  should  you  think 
of  such  a  thing?  He  is  a  very  temperate  man,  and 
you  could  not  fancy  him  in  liquor  last  night?" 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  71 

''Loicl  help  you!  You  women  are  always 
thinking  of  men's  being  in  liquor.  Why,  you  do 
not  suppose  a  man  is  overset  by  a  bottle?  I  am 
sure  of  thisj  —  that  if  everybody  was  to  drink  their 
bottle  a  day,  there  would  not  be  half  the  disorders 
in  the  world  there  are  now.  It  would  be  a  famous 
good  thing  for  us  all.'' 

''  I  cannot  believe  it." 

^^Oh,  Lord,  it  would  be  the  saving  of  thousands. 
There  is  not  the  hundredth  part  of  the  wine  con- 
sumed in  this  kingdom  that  there  ought  to  be. 
Our  foggy  climate  wants  help." 

^'  And  yet  I  have  heard  that  there  is  a  great  deal 
of  wine  drank  in  Oxford." 

^'  Oxford!  There  is  no  drinking  at  Oxford  now, 
I  assure  you.  Nobody  drinks  there.  You  would 
hardly  meet  with  a  man  who  goes  beyond  his  four 
pints  at  the  utmost.  Now,  for  instance,  it  was 
reckoned  a  remarkable  thing  at  the  last  party  in 
my  rooms,  that  upon  an  average  we  cleared  about 
five  pints  a  head.  It  was  looked  upon  as  some- 
thing out  of  the  common  way.  Mine  is  famous 
good  stuff,  to  be  sure.  You  would  not  often  meet 
with  anything  like  it  in  Oxford, — and  that  may 
account  for  it.  But  this  will  just  give  you  a 
notion  of  the  general  rate  of  drinking  there." 

''Yes,  it  does  give  a  notion,"  said  Catherine, 
warmly;  ''and  that  is,  that  you  all  drink  a  great 
deal  more  wine  than  I  thought  you  did.  However, 
I  am  sure  James  does  not  drink  so  much." 

This  declaration  brought  on  a  loud  and  overpow- 
ering reply,  of  which  no  part  was  very  distinct, 
except    the  frequent    exclamations,   amounting  al- 


73  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

most  to  oaths,  which  adorned  it;  and  Catherine 
was  left,  when  it  ended,  with  rather  a  strengfh- 
ened  belief  of  there  being  a  great  deal  of  wine 
drank  in  Oxford,  and  the  same  happy  conviction 
of  her  brother's  comparative  sobriety. 

Thorpe's  ideas  then  all  reverted  to  the  merits  of 
his  own  equipage,  and  she  was  called  on  to  admire 
the  spirit  and  freedom  with  which  his  horse  moved 
along,  and  the  ease  which  his  paces  as  well  as  the 
excellence  of  the  springs  gave  the  motion  of  the 
carriage.  She  followed  him  in  all  his  admiration 
as  well  as  she  could.  To  go  before  or  beyond  him, 
was  impossible.  His  knowledge  and  her  ignorance 
of  the  subject,  his  rapidity  of  expression  and  her 
diffidence  of  herself,  put  that  out  of  her  power; 
she  could  strike  out  nothing  new  in  commendation, 
but  she  readily  echoed  whatever  he  chose  to  as- 
sert, and  it  was  finally  settled  between  them,  with- 
out  any  difficulty,  that  his  equipage  was  altogether 
the  most  complete  of  its  kind  in  England,  his  car- 
riage the  neatest,  his  horse  the  best  goer,  and  him- 
self the  best  coachman.  *' You  do  not  really  think, 
Mr.  Thorpe,"  said  Catherine,  venturing  after  some 
time  to  consider  the  matter  as  entirely  decided, 
and  to  offer  some  little  variation  on  the  subject, 
** that  James's  gig  will  break  down?"  ** 

<' Break  down!  Oh,  Lord!  Did  you  ever  see 
such  a  little  tittuppy  thing  in  your  life?  There  is 
not  a  sound  piece  of  iron  about  it.  The  wheels 
have  been  fairly  worn  out  these  ten  years  at  least; 
and  as  for  the  body! — upon  my  soul,  you  might 
shake  it  to  pieces  yourself  with  a  touch.  It  is  the 
most  devilish  little  rickety  business  I  ever  beheld. 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  73 

Thank  God!  we  have  got  a  better.  T  would  not 
be  bound  to  go  two  miles  in  it  for  fifty  thousand 
pounds." 

''  Good  heavens!  '^  cried  Catherine,  quite  fright- 
ened, ^'  then  pray  let  us  turn  back;  they  will  cer- 
tainly meet  with  an  accident  if  we  go  on.  Do  let 
us  turn  back,  Mr.  Thorpe;  stop  and  speak  to  my 
brother,  and  tell  him  how  very  unsafe  it  is/' 

''  Unsafe!  oh.  Lord!  what  is  there  in  that?  They 
will  only  get  a  roll  if  it  does  break  down ;  and  there 
is  plenty  of  dirt,  it  will  be  excellent  falling.  Oh, 
curse  it!  the  carriage  is  safe  enough  if  a  man 
knows  how  to  drive  it;  a  thing  of  that  sort  in  good 
hands  will  last  above  twenty  years  after  it  is  fairly 
worn  out.  Lord  bless  you!  I  would  undertake  for 
five  pounds  to  drive  it  to  York  and  back  again 
without  losing  a  nail.'' 

Catherine  listened  with  astonishment:  she  knew 
not  how  to  reconcile  two  such  very  different  ac- 
counts of  the  same  thing;  for  she  had  not  been 
brought  up  to  understand  the  propensities  of  a  rat- 
tle, nor  to  know  to  how  many  idle  assertions  and 
impudent  falsehoods  the  excess  of  vanity  will  lead. 
Her  whole  family  were  plain  matter-of-fact  people 
who^^seldom  aimed  at  wit  of  any  kind;  her  father 
at  the  utmost  being  contented  with  a  pun,  and  her 
mother  with  a  proverb;  they  were  not  in  the  habit, 
therefore,  of  telling  lies  to  increase  their  impor- 
tance, or  of  asserting  at  one  moment  what  they 
would  contradict  the  next.  She  reflected  on  the 
affair  for  some  time  in  much  perplexity,  and  was 
more  than  once  on  the  point  of  requesting  from 
Mr.  Thorpe  a  clearer  insight  into  his  real  opinion 


74  NOllTHANGER  ABBEY. 

on  the  subject;  but  she  checked  herself,  because  it 
appeared  to  her  that  he  did  not  excel  in  giving 
those  clearer  insights,  in  making  those  things 
plain  which  he  had  before  made  ambiguous;  and 
joining  to  this  the  consideration  that  he  would 
not  really  suffer  his  sister  and  his  friend  to  be  ex- 
posed to  a  danger  from  which  he  might  easily  pre- 
serve them,  she  concluded  at  last  that  he  must  know 
the  carriage  to  be  in  fact  perfectly  safe,  and  there- 
fore would  alarm  herself  no  longer.  By  him  the 
whole  matter  seemed  entirely  forgotten;  and  all 
the  rest  of  his  conversation,  or  rather  talk,  began 
and  ended  with  himself  and  his  own  concerns.  He 
told  her  of  horses  which  he  had  bought  for  a  trifle 
and  sold  for  incredible  sums;  of  racing  matches  in 
which  his  judgment  had  infallibly  foretold  the 
winner;  of  shooting-parties  in  which  he  had  killed 
more  birds  (though  without  having  one  good  shot) 
than  all  his  companions  together ;  and  described  to 
her  some  famous  day's  sport  with  the  fox-hounds, 
in  which  his  foresight  and  skill  in  directing  the 
dogs  had  repaired  the  mistakes  of  the  most  experi- 
enced huntsman,  and  in  which  the  boldness  of  his 
riding,  though  it  had  never  endangered  his  own  life 
for  a  moment,  had  been  constantly  leading  others 
into  difficulties,  which  he  calmly  concluded  had 
broken  the  necks  of  many. 

Little  as  Catherine  was  in  the  habit  of  judging 
for  herself,  and  unfixed  as  were  her  general  notions 
of  what  men  ought  to  be,  she  could  not  entirely 
repress  a  doubt,  while  she  bore  with  the  effusions  of 
his  endless  conceit,  of  his  being  altogether  com- 
pletely agreeable.     It  was  a  bold  surmise,  for  he 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  75 

was  Isabella's  brother;  and  she  had  been  assured 
by  James  that  his  manners  would  recommend  him 
to  all  her  sex;  but  in  spite  of  this,  the  extreme 
weariness  of  his  company,  which  crept  over  her 
before  they  had  been  out  an  hour,  and  which  con- 
tinued unceasingly  to  increase  till  they  stopped 
in  Pulteney  Street  again,  induced  her  in  some 
small  degree  to  resist  such  high  authority  and  to 
distrust  his  powers  of  giving  universal  pleasure. 

When  they  arrived  at  Mrs.  Allen's  door,  the 
astonishment  of  Isabella  was  hardly  to  be  ex- 
pressed, on  finding  that  it  was  too  late  in  the  day 
for  them  to  attend  her  friend  into  the  house: 
*'Past  three  o'clock!"  it  was  inconceivable,  in- 
credible, impossible!  and  she  would  neither  be- 
lieve her  own  watch,  nor  her  brother's,  nor  the 
servant's;  she  would  believe  no  assurance  of  it 
founded  on  reason  or  reality,  till  Morland  pro- 
duced his  watch,  and  ascertained  the  fact ;  to  have 
doubted  a  moment  longer  then,  would  have  been 
equally  inconceivable,  incredible,  and  impossible; 
and  she  could  only  protest,  over  and  over  again, 
that  no  two  hours  and  a  half  had  ever  gone  off  so 
swiftly  before,  as  Catherine  was  called  on  to  con- 
firm; Catherine  could  not  tell  a  falsehood  even  to 
please  Isabella;  but  the  latter  was  spared  the  mis- 
ery of  her  friend's  dissenting  voice,  by  not  wait- 
ing for  her  answer.  Her  own  feelings  entirely 
engrossed  her;  her  wretchedness  was  most  acute 
on  finding  herself  obliged  to  go  directly  home. 
It  was  ages  since  she  had  had  a  moment's  conver- 
sation with  her  dearest  Catherine;  and  though 
she  had  such  thousands  of  things  to  say  to  her,  it 


76  NORTHANGER   ABBEY 

appeared  as    if   they  were    never   to   be   together 
I  again;  so,  with  smiles  of  most  exquisite  misery,  and 
[the  laughing  eye  of  utter  despondency,  she  bade 
her  friend  adieu  and  went  on. 

Catherine  found  Mrs.  Allen  just  returned  from 
all  the  busy  idleness  of  the  morning,  and  was 
immediately  greeted  with,  **Well,  my  dear,  here 
you  are,"  —  a  truth  which  she  had  no  greater  in- 
clination than  power  to  dispute;  "and  I  hope  you 
have  had  a  pleasant  airing?  " 

"Yes,  ma'am,  I  thank  you;  we  could  not  have 
had  a  nicer  day." 

"So  Mrs.  Thorpe  said;  she  was  vastly  pleased 
at  your  all  going." 

"You  have  seen  Mrs.  Thorpe,   then?" 

''  Yes,  I  went  to  the  Pump-room  as  soon  as  you 
were  gone,  and  there  I  met  her,  and  we  had  a 
great  deal  of  talk  together.  She  says  there  was 
hardly  an}?-  veal  to  be  got  at  market  this  morning, 
it  is  so  uncommonly  scarce." 

"Did  you  see  anybody  else  of  our  acquaint- 
ance?" 

"Yes;  we  agreed  to  take  a  turn  in  the  Cres- 
cent, and  there  we  met  Mrs.  Hughes,  and  Mr. 
and  Miss  Tilney  walking  with  her." 

"Did  you,  indeed!  and  did  they  speak  to 
you?" 

"Yes;  we  walked  along  the  Crescent  together 
for  half  an  hour.  They  seem  very  agreeable  peo- 
ple. Miss  Tilney  was  in  a  very  pretty  spotted 
muslin,  and  I  fancy,  by  what  I  can  learn,  that  she 
always  dresses  very  handsomely.  Mrs.  Hughes 
talked  to  me  a  great  deal  about  the  family." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  77 

''And  what  did  she  tell  you  of  them?" 
''Oh,  a  vast  deal,   indeed j  she  hardly  talked  of 
anything  else." 

"Did  she  tell  you  what  part  of  Gloucestershire 
they  come  from?  " 

"Yes,  she  did;  but  I  cannot  recollect  now. 
But  they  are  very  good  kind  of  people,  and  very 
rich.  Mrs.  Tilney  was  a  Miss  Drummond,  and 
she  and  Mrs.  Hughes  were  school-fellows;  and 
Miss  Drummond  had  a  very  large  fortune;  and 
when  she  married,  her  father  gave  her  twenty 
thousand  pounds,  and  five  hundred  to  buy  wed- 
ding clothes.  Mrs.  Hughes  saw  all  the  clothes 
after  they  came  from  the  warehouse." 

"And  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tilney  in  Bath?  " 

"Yes,    I  fancy  they  are,  but  I  am  not   quite 

certain.     Upon   recollection,    however,    I   have   a 

notion  they  are  both  dead;  at  least,  the  mother  is; 

yes,  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Tilney  is  dead,  because  Mrs. 

j  Hughes  told  me  there  was  a  very  beautiful  set  of 

i  pearls  that  Mr.  Drummond  gave  his  daughter  on 

i  her  wedding-day  and  that  Miss  Tilney  has  got  now, 

I  for  they  were  put  by  for   her  when  her   mother 

I  died." 

I       "And   is    Mr.    Tilney,    my   partner,   the    only 
;  son?'' 

"I  cannot  be  quite  positive  about  that,  my 
dear;  I  have  some  idea  he  is;  but,  however,  he  is 
a  very  fine  young  man,  Mrs.  Hughes  says,  and 
likely  to  do  very  well." 

Catherine  inquired  no  further;  she  had  heard 
enough  to  feel  that  Mrs.  Allen  had  no  real  intelli- 
gence to  give,  and  that  she  was  most  particularly 


78  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

unfortunate  herself  in  having  missed  such  a  meet- 
ing with  hoth  brother  and  sister.  Could  she  have 
foreseen  such  a  circumstance,  nothing  should  have 
persuaded  her  to  go  out  with  the  others ;  and  as  it 
was,  she  could  only  lament  her  ill-luck,  and  think 
over  what  she  had  lost,  till  it  was  clear  to  her 
that  the  drive  had  by  no  means  been  very  pleas- 
ant, and  that  John  Thorpe  himself  was  quite 
disagreeable. 


NORTHANGEli  ABBEY.  79 


CHAPTEE  X. 

The  Aliens,  Thorpes,  and  Morlands  all  met  in 
the  evening  at  the  theatre;  and  as  Catherine 
I  and  Isabella  sat  together,  there  was  then  an  oppor- 
i  tunity  for  the  latter  to  utter  some  few  of  the  many 
1  thousand  things  which  had  been  collecting  with- 
I  in  her  for  communication,  in  the  immeasurable 
i  length  of  time  which  had  divided  them.  —  '^Oh, 
; heavens!  my  beloved  Catherine,  have  I  got  you  at 
'last?''  was  her  address  on  Catherine's  entering 
the  box  and  sitting  by  her.  ^'Now,  Mr.  Mor- 
land,"  for  he  was  close  to  her  on  the  other  side, 
M*I  shall  not  speak  another  word  to  you  all  the 
best  of  the  evening;  so  I  charge  you  not  to  expect 
jit.  My  sweetest  Catherine,  how  have  you  been 
jthis  long  age?  But  I  need  not  ask  you,  for  you 
jlook  delightfully.  You  really  have  done  your 
I  hair  in  a  more  heavenly  style  than  ever:  you  mis- 
jchievous  creature,  do  you  want  to  attract  every- 
Ibody?  I  assure  you  my  brother  is  quite  in  love 
jwith  you  alread}^;  and  as  for  Mr.  Tilney, — but 
[that  is  a  settled  thing  —  even  your  modesty  can- 
inot  doubt  his  attachment  now;  his  coming  back  to 
iBath  makes  it  too  plain.  Oh,  what  would  not  I 
jgive  to  see  him!  I  really  am  quite  wild  with 
impatience.  My  mother  says  he  is  the  most  de- 
lightful young  man  in  the  world;  she  saw   him 


80  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

this  morning,  you  know:  you  must  introduce  him 
to  me.  Is  he  in  the  house  now?  —  Look  about, 
for  heaven's  sake!  I  assure  you,  I  can  hardly 
exist  till  I  see  him." 

^'No/'  said  Catherine,  ^'he  is  not  here;  I  can^ 
not  see  him  anywhere." 

''  Oh,  horrid!  am  I  never  to  be  acquainted  with 
him?  How  do  you  like  my  gown?  I  think  it 
does  not  look  amiss;  the  sleeves  were  entirely  my 
own  thought.  Do  you  know  I  get  so  immoder- 
ately sick  of  Bath ;  your  brother  and  I  were  agree- 
ing this  morning  that  though  it  is  vastly  well  to 
be  here  for  a  few  weeks,  we  would  not  live  here 
for  millions.  We  soon  found  out  that  our  tastes 
were  exactly  alike  in  preferring  the  country  to 
every  other  place;  really  our  opinions  were  so 
exactly  the  same,  it  was  quite  ridiculous!  There 
was  not  a  single  point  in  which  we  differed.  I 
would  not  have  had  you  by  for  the  world;  you  are 
such  a  sly  thing,  I  am  sure  you  would  have  made 
some  droll  remark  or  other  about  it.'' 
^^No,  indeed,  I  should  not." 
*^0h,  yes,  you  would,  indeed;  I  know  you  bet- 
ter than  you  know  yourself.  You  would  have  told 
us  that  we  seemed  born  for  each  other,  or  some 
nonsense  of  that  kind,  which  would  have  dis- 
tressed me  beyond  conception ;  my  cheeks  would 
have  been  as  red  as  your  roses ;  I  would  not  have 
had  you  by  for  the  world." 

*^ Indeed  you  do  me  injustice;  I  would  not  have  ; 
made  so  improper  a  remark  upon  any  account;  and 
besides,   I  am  sure  it   would  never  have   entered 
my  head." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  81 

Isabella   smiled  incredulously,   and   talked   the 
rest  of  the  evening  to  James. 

Catherine's  resolution  of  endeavoring  to  meet 
Miss  Tilney  again  continued  in  full  force  the 
next  morning;  and  till  the  usual  moment  of  go- 
ing to  the  Pump-room,  she  felt  some  alarm  from 
the  dread  of  a  second  prevention.  But  nothing 
of  that  kind  occurred,  no  visitors  appeared  to  de- 
lay them,  and  they  all  three  set  off  in  good  time 
for  the  Pump-room,  where  the  ordinary  course  of 
events  and  conversation  took  place:  Mr.  Allen, 
after  drinking  his  glass  of  water,  joined  some 
gentlemen  to  talk  over  the  politics  of  the  day  and 
compare  the  accounts  of  their  newspapers ;  and  the 
ladies  walked  about  together,  noticing  every  new 
face,  and  almost  every  new  bonnet  in  the  room. 
The  female  part  of  the  Thorpe  family,  attended  by 
James  Morland,  appeared  among  the  crowd  in  less 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  Catherine  immedi- 
ately took  her  usual  place  by  the  side  of  her 
friend.  James,  who  was  not  in  constant  attend- 
ance, maintained  a  similar  position ;  and  separat- 
ing themselves  from  the  rest  of  their  party,  they 
walked  in  that  manner  for  some  time,  till  Cather- 
ine began  to  doubt  the  happiness  of  a  situation 
which,  confining  her  entirely  to  her  friend  and 
brother,  gave  her  very  little  share  in  the  notice  of 
either.  They  were  always  engaged  in  some  senti- 
mental discussion  or  lively  dispute,  but  their  sen- 
timent was  conveyed  in  such  whispering  voices, 
and  their  vivacity  attended  with  so  much  laughter, 
that  though  Catherine's  supporting  opinion  was 
not  unfrequently  called  for  by  one  or  the  other, 
6 


82  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

she  was  never  able  to  give  any,  from  not  having 
heard  a  word  of  the  subject.  At  length,  however, 
she  was  empowered  to  disengage  herself  from  her 
friend,  by  the  avowed  necessity  of  speaking  to 
Miss  Tilney,  whom  she  most  joyfully  saw  just  en- 
tering the  room  with  Mrs.  Hughes,  and  whom  she 
instantly  joined,  with  a  firmer  determination  to  be 
acquainted  than  she  might  have  had  courage  to 
command,  had  she  not  been  urged  by  the  disap- 
pointment of  the  day  before.  Miss  Tilney  met 
her  with  great  civility,  returned  her  advances 
with  equal  good  will,  and  they  continued  talking 
together  as  long  as  both  parties  remained  in  the 
room;  and  though  in  all  probability  not  an  ob- 
servation was  made,  nor  an  expression  used  by 
either  which  had  not  been  made  and  used  some 
thousands  of  times  before,  under  that  roof,  in 
every  Bath  season,  yet  the  merit  of  their  being 
spoken  with  simplicity  and  truth  and  without 
personal  conceit  might  be  something  uncommon. 

^^How  well  your  brother  dances!  "  was  an  art- 
less exclamation  of  Catherine's  towards  the  close 
of  their  conversation,  which  at  once  surprised  and 
amused  her  companion. 

<^  Henry!"  she  replied  with  a  smile.  **Yes, 
he  does   dance  very  well." 

^^  He  must  have  thought  it  very  odd  to  hear  me 
say  I  was  engaged  the  other  evening,  when  he  saw 
me  sitting  down.  But  I  really  had  been  engaged 
the  whole  day  to  Mr.  Thorpe."  Miss  Tilney  could 
only  bow.  '^  You  cannot  think,"  added  Catherine, 
after  a  moment's  silence,  "  how  surprised  I  was  to 
see  him  again.  I  felt  so  sure  of  his  being  quite 
gone  away.'^ 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  83 

*'When  Henry  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
before,  he  was  in  Bath  but  for  a  couple  of  days. 
He  came  only  to  engage  lodgings  for  us." 

^'  That  never  occurred  to  me;  and  of  course,  not 
seeing  him  anywhere,  I  thought  he  must  be  gone. 
Was  not  the  young  lady  he  danced  with  on  Mon- 
}  day  a  Miss  Smith?  " 
j      ^' Yes;  an  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Hughes." 

''I  dare  say  she  was  very  glad  to  dance.     Do 
you  think  her  pretty?" 
^' Not  very." 

<*He  never  comes  to  the  Pump-room,  I  sup- 
pose?'' 

'^  Yes,  sometimes;  but  he  has  rid  out  this  morn- 
ing with  my  father." 

Mrs.  Hughes  now  joined  them,  and  asked  Miss 
JTilneyif  she  was  ready  to  go.  '^I  hope  I  shall 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again  soon,"  said 

I  Catherine.      *^  Shall  you  be  at  the  cotillion  ball 
to-morrow?  " 

^*  Perhaps  we  —  yes,  I  think  we  certainly  shall.'' 
"I  am  glad  of  it,  for  we  shall  all  be  there." 
This  civility  was  duly  returned,  and  they  parted : 
on  Miss  Tilney's  side  with  some  knowledge  of  her 
new  acquaintance's  feelings,  and  on  Catherine's, 
without  the  smallest  consciousness  of  having  ex- 
plained them. 

She  went  home  very  happy.  The  morning  had 
answered  all  her  hopes,  and  the  evening  of  the 
following  day  was  now  the  object  of  expectation, 
the  future  good.  What  gown  and  what  head-dress 
she  should  wear  on  the  occasion  became  her  chief 
concern.      She  cannot  be  justified  in  it.     Dress  is 


84  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

at  all  times  a  frivolous  distinction,  and  excessive 
solicitude  about  it  often  destroys  its  own  aim. 
Catherine  knew  all  this  very  well ;  her  great-aunt 
had  read  her  a  lecture  on  the  subject  onl}^  the 
Christmas  before;  and  yet  she  la}^  awake  ten  min- 
utes on  Wednesday  night  debating  between  her 
spotted  and  her  tamboured  muslin,  and  nothing 
but  the  shortness  of  the  time  prevented  her  buying 
a  new  one  for  the  evening.  This  would  have  been 
an  error  in  judgment,  great  though  not  uncommon, 
from  which  one  of  the  other  sex  rather  than  her 
own,  a  brother  rather  than  a  great-aunt,  might 
have  warned  her;  for  man  only  can  be  aware  of  the 
insensibility  of  niah"  towards  a  new  gown.  It 
would  be  mortifying  to  the  feelings  of  manj'-  ladies 
could  they  be  made  to  understand  how  little  the 
heart  of  man  is  affected  by  what  is  costly  or  new 
in  their  attire;  how  little  it  is  biassed  by  the 
texture  of  their  muslin,  and  how  unsusceptible 
of  peculiar  tenderness  towards  the  spotted,  the 
sprigged,  the  mull,  or  the  jaconet.  Woman  is 
fine  for  her  own  satisfaction  alone.  No  man  will 
admire  her  the  more,  no  woman  will  like  her  the 
better  for  it.  Neatness  and  fashion  are  enough  for 
the  former,  and  a  something  of  shabbiness  or  im- 
propriety will  be  most  endearing  to  the  latter. 
But  not  one  of  these  grave  reflections  troubled  the 
tranquillity  of  Catherine. 

She  entered  the  rooms  on  Thursday  evening 
with  feelings  very  different  from  what*  had  at- 
tended her  thither  the  Monday  before.  She  had 
then  been  exulting  in  her  engagement  to  Thorpe, 
3.nd  was  now  chiefly  anxious  to  avoid  his  sight, 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  85 

lest  he  sliould  engage  her  again;  for  though  she 
could  not,  dared  not  expect  that  Mr.  Tilney  should 
ask  her  a  third  time  to  dance,  her  wishes,  hopes, 
and  plans  all  centred  in  nothing  less.  Every 
young  lady  may  feel  for  my  heroine  in  this  critical 
moment,  for  every  young  lady  has  at  some  time  or 
other  known  the  same  agitation.  All  have  been, 
or  at  least  all  have  believed  themselves  to  be,  in 
danger  from  the  pursuit  of  some  one  whom  they 
wished  to  avoid;  and  all  have  been  anxious  for  the 
attentions  of  some  one  whom  they  wished  to 
please.  As  soon  as  they  were  joined  by  the 
Thorpes,  Catherine's  agony  began;  she  fidgeted 
about  if  John  Thorpe  came  towards  her,  hid  her- 
self as  much  as  possible  from  his  view,  and  when 
he  spoke  to  her  pretended  not  to  hear  him.  The 
cotillions  were  over,  the  country-dancing  begin- 
ning, and  she  saw  nothing  of  the  Tilneys.  *'Do 
not  be  frightened,  my  dear  Catherine,"  whispered 
Isabella,  ^'but  I  am  really  going  to  dance  with 
your  brother  again.  I  declare  positively  it  is 
quite  shocking.  I  tell  him  he  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  himself,  but  you  and  John  must  keep  us  in 
countenance.  Make  haste,  my  dear  creature,  and 
come  to  us.  John  is  just  walked  off,  but  he  will 
be  back  in  a  moment." 

Catherine  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  to 
answer.  The  others  walked  awa}^,  John  Thorpe 
was  still  in  view,  and  she  gave  herself  up  for  lost. 
That  she  might  not  appear,  however,  to  observe  or 
expect  him,  she  kept  her  eyes  intently  fixed  on  her 
fan ;  and  a  self-condemnation  for  her  folly,  in  sup- 
posing that  among  such  a  crowd  they  should  even 


86  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

meet  with  tlie  Tilneys  in  any  reasonable  time,  had 
just  passed  through  her  mind,  when  she  suddenly 
found  herself  addressed  and  again  solicited  to 
dance,  by  Mr.  Tilney  himself.  With  what  spark- 
ling eyes  and  ready  motion  she  granted  his  re- 
quest, and  with  how  pleasing  a  flutter  of  heart  she 
went  with  him  to  the  set,  may  be  easily  imagined. 
To  escape,  and,  as  she  believed,  so  narrowly 
escape  John  Thorpe,  and  to  be  asked  so  immedi- 
ately on  his  joining  her,  asked  by  Mr.  Tilney, 
as  if  he  had  sought  her  on  purpose !  —  it  did  not 
appear  to  her  that  life  could  supply  any  greater 
felicity. 

Scarcely  had  they  worked  themselves  into  the 
quiet  possession  of  a  place,  however,  when  her 
attention  was  claimed  by  John  Thorpe,  who  stood 
behind  her.  "  Heyday,  Miss  Morland! ''  said  he, 
''what  is  the  meaning  of  this?  —  I  thought  you 
and  I  were  to  dance  together.'' 

*'I  wonder  you  should  think  so,  for  you  never 
asked  me." 

''That  is  a  good  one,  by  Jove!  I  asked  you 
as  soon  as  I  came  into  the  room,  and  I  was  just 
going  to  ask  you  again,  but  when  I  turned  round 
you  were  gone!  This  is  a  cursed  shabby  trick! 
I  only  came  for  the  sake  of  dancing  with  you,  and 
I  firmly  believe  you  were  engaged  to  me  ever  since 
Monday.  Yes;  I  remember,  1  asked  you  while 
you  were  waiting  in  the  lobby  for  your  cl^ak.  And 
here  have  I  been  telling  all  my  acquaintance  that 
I  was  going  to  dance  with  the  prettiest  girl  in  the 
room;  and  when  they  see  you  standing  up  with 
somebody  else,  they  will  quiz  me  famously." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  87 

'^Oh,  no;  they  will  never  think  of  me,  after 
such  a  description  as  that.'' 

''By  heavens,  if  they  do  not,  I  will  kick  them 
out  of  the  room  for  blockheads.  What  chap  have 
you  there?''  Catherine  satisfied  his  curiosity. 
"Tilney, "  he  repeated:  "hum  —  I  do  not  know 
him.  A  good  figure  of  a  man;  well  put  together. 
Does  he  want  a  horse?  Here  is  a  friend  of 
mine,  Sam  Fletcher,  has  got  one  to  sell  that  would 
suit  anybody.  A  famous  clever  animal  for  the 
road,  —  only  forty  guineas.  I  had  fifty  minds  to 
buy  it  myself,  for  it  is  one  of  my  maxims  always 
to  buy  a  good  horse  when  I  meet  with  one ;  but  it 
would  not  answer  my  purpose,  it  would  not  do  for 
the  field.  I  would  give  any  money  for  a  real  good 
hunter.  I  have  three  now,  the  best  that  ever  were 
backed.  I  would  not  take  eight  hundred  guineas 
for  them.  Fletcher  and  I  mean  to  get  a  house  in 
Leicestershire  against  the  next  season.  It  is  so 
d d  uncomfortable  living  at  an  inn." 

This  was  the  last  sentence  by  which  he  could 
weary  Catherine's  attention,  for  he  was  just  then 
borne  off  by  the  resistless  pressure  of  a  long  string 
of  passing  ladies.  Her  partner  now  drew  near, 
and  said:  ''That  gentleman  would  have  put  me 
out  of  patience,  had  he  staj^ed  with  you  half  a  min- 
ute longer.  He  has  no  business  to  withdraw  the 
attention  of  my  partner  from  me.  We  have  en- 
tered into  a  contract  of  mutual  agreeableness  for 
the  space  of  an  evening,  and  all  our  agreeableness 
belongs  solely  to  each  other  for  that  time.  No- 
body can  fasten  themselves  on  the  notice  of  one, 
without     injuring    the     rights     of    the   other.     I 


88  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

consider  a  country-dance  as  an  emblem  of  marriage. 
Fidelity  and  com^^laisance  are  the  principal  duties 
of  both ;  and  those  men  who  do  not  choose  to  dance 
or  marry  themselves,  have  no  business  with  th& 
partners  or  wives  of  their  neighbors." 

*^  But  they  are  such  very  different  things!  " 

*'That  you  think  they  cannot  be  compared 
together." 

*'  To  be  sure  not.  People  that  marry  can  nevei 
part,  but  must  go  and  keep  house  together. 
People  that  dance  only  stand  opposite  to  each  othei 
in  a  long  room  for  half  an  hour." 

"  And  such  is  your  definition  of  matrimony  and 
dancing.  Taken  in  that  light  certainly,  their 
resemblance  is  not  striking;  but  I  think  I  could 
place  them  in  such  a  view.  —  You  will  allow  that 
in  both  man  has  the  advantage  of  choice,  woman 
only  the  power  of  refusal ;  that  in  both  it  is  an  en- 
gagement between  man  and  woman,  formed  for  the 
advantage  of  each;  and  that  when  once  entered 
into,  they  belong  exclusively  to  each  other  till  the 
moment  of  its  dissolution;  that  it  is  their  duty  each 
to  endeavor  to  give  the  other  no  cause  for  wishing 
that  he  or  she  had  bestowed  themselves  elsewhere, 
and  their  best  interest  to  keep  their  own  imagina- 
tions from  wandering  towards  the  perfections  of 
their  neighbors,  or  fancying  that  they  should  have 
been  better  off  with  any  one  else.  You  will  allow 
all  this?  " 

' '  Yes,  to  be  sure,  as  you  state  it,  all  this  sounds 
very  well ;  but  still  they  are  so  very  different.  I 
cannot  look  upon  them  at  all  in  the  same  light,  nor 
think  the  same  duties  belong  to  them." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  89 

*'  In  one  respect  there  certainly  is  a  difference. 
In  marriage  the  man  is  supposed  to  provide  for 
the  support  of  the  woman ;  the  woman  to  make  the 

'  home  agreeable  to  the  man;  he  is  to  purvey,  and 
she  is  to  smile.  But  in  dancing,  their  duties  are 
exactly  changed;  the  agreeableness,  the  compliance 
are  expected  from  him,  while  she  furnishes  the  fan 
and  the  lavender  water.     That,  I  suppose,  was  the 

1  difference  of  duties  which  struck  you,  as  rendering 
the  conditions  incapable  of  comparison." 
''No,  indeed,  I  never  thought  of  that.'' 

.        ^*  Then  I  am  quite  at  a  loss.    One  thing,  however, 

,  \I  must  observe.  This  disposition  on  your  side  is 
rather  alarming.  You  totally  disallow  an 3^  simi- 
larity in  the  obligations;  and  may  I  not  thence 
infer  that  your  notions  of  the  duties  of  the  dancing 
state  are  not  so  strict  as  your  partner  might  wish? 
Have  I  not  reason  to  fear  that  if  the  gentleman 
who  spoke  to  you  just  now  were  to  return,  or  if  any 
other  gentleman  were  to  address  you,  there  would 
be  nothing  to  restrain  you  from  conversing  with 
him  as  long  as  you  chose?  " 

*^Mr.  Thorpe  is  such  a  very  particular  friend  of 
my  brother's,  that  if  he  talks  to  me,  I  must  talk  to 
him  again;  but  there  are  hardly  three  young  men 
in  the  room  besides  him  that  I  have  any  acquaint- 
ance with." 

''And  is  that  to  be  my  only  security?  Alas, 
alas!" 

*'N"ay,  I  am  sure  you  cannot  have  a  better;  for 
if  I  do  not  know  anybody,  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  talk  to  them ;  and  besides,  I  do  not  want  to  talk 
to  anybody." 


90  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

^'  l!^ow  you  have  given  me  a  security  worth,  hav- 
ing; and  I  shall  proceed  with  courage.  Do  you 
find  Bath  as  agreeable  as  when  I  had  the  honor  of 
making  the  inquiry  before?  " 

'^Yes,  quite,  — more  so,  indeed." 

^'  More  so!  Take  care,  or  you  will  forget  to  be 
tired  of  it  at  the  proper  time.  You  ought  to  be 
tired  at  the  end  of  six  weeks." 

'^I  do  not  think  I  should  be  tired,  if  I  were  to 
stay  here  six  months.'' 

'^  Bath,  compared  with  London,  has  little  variety, 
and  so  everybody  finds  out  every  year.  '  For  six 
weeks  I  allow  Bath  is  pleasant  enough;  but  be- 
yond that,  it  is  the  most  tiresome  place  in  the 
world.'  You  would  be  told  so  by  people  of  all 
descriptions,  who  come  regularly  every  winter, 
lengthen  their  six  weeks  into  ten  or  twelve,  and 
go  away  at  last  because  they  can  afford  to  stay 
no  longer.'' 

''Well,  other  people  must  judge  for  themselves, 
and  those  who  go  to  London  may  think  nothing  of 
Bath.  But  I,  who  live  in  a  small  retired  village  in 
the  country,  can  never  find  greater  sameness  in  such 
a  place  as  this  than  in  my  own  home ;  for  here  are 
a  variety  of  amusements,  a  variety  of  things  to  be 
seen  and  done  all  day  long,  which  I  can  know 
nothing  of  there." 

''You  are  not  fond  of  the  countryr" 

"Yes,  I  am.  I  have  always  lived  there,  and 
always  been  very  happy.  But  certainly  there  is 
much  more  sameness  in  a  country  life  than  in  a 
Bath  life.  One  day  in  the  country  is  exactly  like 
another." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  91 

*'  But  then  you  spend  your  time  so  much  more 
rationally  in  the  country." 

^'Dol?'' 

<*Doyounot?'' 

**I  do  not  believe  there  is  much  difference.'' 

"  Here  you  are  in  pursuit  only  of  amusement  all 
I  day  long." 

*'And  so  I  am  at  home,  — only  I  do  not  find 
so  much  of  it.  I  walk  about  here,  and  so  I  do 
I  there;  but  here  I  see  a  variety  of  people  in 
[  every  street,  and  there  I  can  only  go  and  call  on 
,Mrs.  Allen." 

Mr.  Tilney  was  very  much  amused.  ^^Only  go 
land  call  on  Mrs.  Allen!  "  he  repeated.  *'What  a 
i picture  of  intellectual  poverty!  However,  when 
'you  sink  into  this  abyss  again,  you  will  have  more 
to  say.  You  will  be  able  to  talk  of  Bath,  and  of 
all  that  you  did  here." 

^'Oh,  yes.  I  shall  never  be  in  want  of  some- 
i thing  to  talk  of  again  to  Mrs.  Allen,  or  anybody 
I  else.  I  really  believe  I  shall  always  be  talking  of 
jBath,  when  I  am  at  home  again,  —  I  do  like  it  so 
'very  much.  If  I  could  but  have  papa  and  mamma, 
and  the  rest  of  them  here,  I  suppose  I  should  be 
I  too  happy!  James's  coming  (my  oldest  brother)  is 
j quite  delightful;  and  especially  as  it  turns  out  that 
i the  very  family  we  are  just  got  so  intimate  with  are 
his  intimate  friends  already.  Oh,  who  can  ever 
be  tired  of  Bath?  " 

*'Not  those  who  bring  such  fresh  feelings  of 
every  sort  to  it  as  you  do.  But  papas  and  mammas 
and  brothers  and  intimate  friends  are  a  good  deal 
gone  by,  to  most  of  the  frequenters  of  Bathj  and 


92  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

the  honest  relish  of  balls  and  plays  and  every-day 
sights  is  past  with  them." 

Here  their  conversation  closed;  the  demands  of 
the  dance  becoming  now  too  importunate  for  a 
divided  attention. 

Soon  after  their  reaching  the  bottom  of  the  set, 
Catherine  perceived  herself  to  be  earnestly  re-^ 
garded  by  a  gentleman  who  stood  among  the" 
lookers-on,  immediately  behind  her  partner.  He 
was  a  very  handsome  man,  of  a  commanding 
aspect,  past  the  bloom,  but  not  past  the  vigor  of 
life;  and  with  his  eye  still  directed  towards  her, 
she  saw  him  presently  address  Mr.  Tilney  in  a 
familiar  whisper.  Confused  by  his  notice,  and 
blushing  from  the  fear  of  its  being  excited  by 
something  wrong  in  her  appearance,  she  turned 
away  her  head.  But  while  she  did  so,  the  gentleman 
retreated,  and  her  partner  coming  n-earer,  said:  ^^  I 
see  that  you  guess  what  I  have  just  been  asked. 
That  gentleman  knows  your  name,  and  you  have 
a  right  to  know  his.  It  is  General  Tilney,  my 
father." 

Catherine's  answer  was  only  ^'Oh!"  but  it  was 
an  "Oh!  "  expressing  everything  needful,  — atten- 
tion to  his  words,  and  perfect  reliance  on  their  truth. 
"With  real  interest  and  strong  admiration  did  her 
eye  now  follow  the  General,  as  he  moved  through 
the  crowd,  and  * '  How  handsome  a  family  they 
are !  "  was  her  secret  remark. 

In  chatting  with  Miss  Tilney  before  the  evening 
concluded,  a  new  source  of  felicity  arose  to  her. 
She  ha(J  never  taken  a  country  walk  since  her 
arrival  in  Bath.     Miss  Tilney,  to   whom  all  the 


NOKTHANGER   ABBEY.  93 

commonly  frequented  environs  were  familiar,  spoke 
of  them  in  terms  which  made  her  all  eagerness  to 
know  them  too*,  and  on  her  openly  fearing  that  she^ 
might  find  nobody  to  go  with  her,  it  was  proposed 
by  the  brother  and  sister  that  they  should  join  in  a 
walk,  some  morning  or  other.  *'I  shall  like  it," 
she  cried,  '^beyond  anything  in  the  world;  and  do 
not  let  us  put  it  off,  —  let  us  go  to-morrow."  This 
was  readily  agreed  to,  with  only  a  proviso  of  Miss  ^ 
Tilney's  that  it  did  not  rain,  which  Catherine  was 
sure  it  would  not.  At  twelve  o'clock  they  were 
to  call  for  her  in  Pulteney  Street;  and  *' remem- 
ber—  twelve  o'clock,"  was  her  parting  speech  to 
her  new  friend.  Of  her  other,  her  older,  her  more 
established  friend,  Isabella,  of  whose  fidelity  and 
worth  she  had  enjoyed  a  fortnight's  experience, 
she  scarcely  saw  anything  during  the  evening. 
Yet,  though  longing  to  make  her  acquainted  with 
her  happiness,  she  cheerfully  submitted  to  the  wish 
of  Mr.  Allen  which  took  them  rather  early  away; 
and  her  spirits  danced  within  her,  as  she  danced 
in  her  chair  all  the  way  home. 


94  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  morrow  brought  a  very  sober-looking  morning, 
the  sun  making  only  a  few  efforts  to  appear;  and 
Catherine  augured  from  it  everything  most  favor- 
able to  her  wishes.  A  bright  morning  so  early  in 
the  year,  she  allowed,  would  generally  turn  to 
rain;  but  a  cloudy  one  foretold  improvement  as 
the  day  advanced.  She  applied  to  Mr.  Allen  for 
confirmation  of  her  hopes ;  but  Mr.  Allen,  not  hav- 
ing his  own  skies  and  barometer  about  him,  de- 
clined giving  any  absolute  promise  of  sunshine. 
She  applied  to  Mrs.  Allen,  and  Mrs.  Allen's 
opinion  was  more  positive.  ^'She  had  no  doubt 
in  the  world  of  its  being  a  very  fine  day,  if  the 
clouds  would  only  go  off,  and  the  sun  keep  out." 

At  about  eleven  o'clock,  however,  a  few  specks 
of  small  rain  upon  the  windows  caught  Catherine's 
watchful  eye,  and  *'0h  dear,  I  do  believe  it  will 
be  wet ! ''  broke  from  her  'jp.  a  most  desponding 
tone. 

<'I  thought  how  it  would  be,"  said  Mrs.  Allen. 

*^No  walk  for  me  to-day,"  sighed  Catherine; 
*^but  perhaps  it  may  come  to  nothing,  or  it  may 
hold  up  before  twelve." 

*^ Perhaps  it  may;  but  then,  my  dear,  it  will  be 
so  dirty." 

"  Oh,  that  will  not  signify ;  I  never  mind  dirt." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  95 

'*No,"  replied  her  friend,  very  placidly,  ^'I 
know  you  never  mind  dirt." 

After  a  short  pause,  '^It  comes  on  faster  and 
faster!'^  said  Catherine,  as  she  stood  watching  at 
a  window. 

^^So  it  does,  indeed.  If  it  keeps  raining,  the 
streets  will  be  very  wet. " 

^*  There  are  four  umbrellas  up  already.  How  I 
hate  the  sight  of  an  umbrella!  " 

^'They  are  disagreeable  things  to  carry.  I 
would  much  rather  take  a  chair  at  any  time." 

"It  w^as  such  a  nice-looking  morning!  I  felt  so 
convinced  it  would  be  dry!  " 

^'Anybody  would  have  thought  so,  indeed. 
I  There  will  be  very  few  people  in  the  Pump-room, 
if  it  rains  all  the  morning.  I  hope  Mr.  Allen  will 
I  put  on  his  great-coat  when  he  goes,  but  I  dare  sa}?- 
|}ie  will  not,  for  he  had  rather  do  anything  in  the 
[world  than  walk  out  in  a  great-coat;  I  wonder  he 
(should  dislike  it,  it  must  be  so. comfortable." 

The  rain  continued,  —  fast,  though  not'^heavy. 

J  Catherine  went  every  five  minutes  to  the  clock, 

[threatening,   on  each  return,   that  if  it  still  kept 

on  raining  another  five  minutes,   she  would  give 

[up   the    matter    as    hc^eless.      The    clock    struck 

twelve,  and  it  still  rained.      "You  will  not  be  able 

to  go,  my  dear." 

"I  do  not  quite  despair  yet.  I  shall  not  give 
it  up  till  a  quarter  after  twelve.  This  is  just  the 
time  of  day  for  it  to  clear  up,  and  I  do  think  it 
looks  a  little  lighter.  There,  it  is  twenty  minutes 
after  twelve,  and  now  I  shall  give  it  up  entirely. 
Oh  that  we  had  such  weather  here  as  they  had  at 


96  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

Udolpho,  or  at  least  in  Tuscany  and  the  South  of 
France! — the  night  that  poor  St.  Aubin  died!  — 
such  beautiful  weather! '' 

At  half-past  twelve,  when  Catherine's  anxious 
attention  to  the  weather  was  over,  and  she  could 
no  longer  claim  any  merit  from  its  amendment, 
the  sky  began  voluntaril}'-  to  clear.  A  gleam  of 
sunshine  took  her  quite  by  surprise:  she  looked 
round,  the  clouds  were  parting,  and  she  instantly 
returned  to  the  window  to  watch  over  and  encour- 
age the  happy  appearance.  Ten  minutes  more 
made  it  certain  that  a  bright  afternoon  would  suc' 
ceed,  and  justified  the  opinion  of  Mrs.  Allen,  who 
had  ''always  thought  it  would  clear  up."  But 
whether  Catherine  might  still  expect  her  friends, 
whether  there  had  not  been  too  much  rain  for  Mis:5 
Tilney  to  venture,  must  j^et  be  a  question. 

It  was  too  dirty  for  Mrs.  Allen  to  accompany 
her  husband  to  the  Pump-room :  he  accordingly  set 
off  by  himself,  and  Catherine  had  barely  watched 
him  down  the  street,  when  her  notice  was  claimed 
by  the  approach  of  the  same  two  open  carriages, 
containing  the  same  three  people  that  had  surprised 
her  so  much  a  few  mornings  back. 

''Isabella,  my  brother,  and  Mr.  Thorpe,  I  de- 
clare! They  are  coming  for  me,  perhaps;  but  I 
shall  not  go:  I  cannot  go,  indeed;  for,  you  know. 
Miss  Tilney  may  still  call."  Mrs.  Allen  agreed 
to  it.  John  Thorpe  was  soon  with  them,  and  his 
voice  was  with  them  yet  sooner,  for  on  the  stairs 
he  was  calling  out  to  Miss  Morland  to  be  quick. 
*'Make  haste!  make  haste! ''  as  he  threw  open  the 
door,  —  "put  on  your  hat  this  moment;    there   is 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  97 

no  time  to  be  lost,  —  we  are  going  to  Bristol.  — 
How  d'  ye  do,  Mrs.  Allen?  " 

j       '^To  Bristol!     Is  not  that  a  great  way  off?    But, 

I  however,  I  cannot  go  with  you  to-day,  because  I 

;  am  engaged;  I  expect  some  friends  every  moment. '* 
This  was  of  course  vehemently  talked  down  as 
no  reason  at  all,  Mrs.  Allen  was  called  on  to  sec- 
ond him,  and  the  two  others  walked  in,  to  give 
their  assistance.  *^  My  sweetest  Catherine,  is  not 
this  delightful?  We  shall  have  a  most  heavenly 
drive.     You  are  to  thank  your  brother  and  me  for 

I  the  scheme :  it  darted  into  our  heads  at  breakfast- 

'  time,  I  verily  believe  at  the  same  instant ;  and  w*e 
should  have  been  off  two  hours  ago,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  this  detestable  rain.  But  it  does  not  sig- 
nify, the  nights  are   moonlight,   and  we  shall  do 

,  delightfully.  Oh,  I  am  in  such  ecstasies  at  the 
thoughts   of  a  little   country  air  and  quiet !  —  so 

]  much  better  than  going  to  the  Lower  Rooms.     We 

! shall  drive  directly  to  Clifton  and  dine  there;  and 
as  soon  as  dinner  is  over,  if  there  is  time  for  it,  go 

(on  to  Kings weston." 

I      "1  doubt  our  being  able  to  do  so  much,"  said 

IjMorland. 

I  ''You  croaking  fellow!"  cried  Thorpe,  ''we 
shall  be  able  to  do  ten  times  more.  Kingsweston! 
ay,  and  Blaize  Castle  too,  and  anything  else  we 
can  hear  of;   but  here  is  your  sister  says  she  will 

[not  go." 

I      "Blaize  Castle! '^    cried    Catherine;     "what  is 

ithat?" 

"The  finest  place  in  England,  — worth  going 
fifty  miles  at  any  time  to  see.'' 

7 


98  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

"What!  is  it  really  a  castle,  an  old  castle?" 

"  The  oldest  in  the  kingdom. '^ 

^'  But  is  it  like  what  one  reads  of?  " 

'^Exactly,  — the  very  same.^' 

*^But  now,  really,  are  there  towers  and  long 
galleries?  '^ 

"Bj  dozens/' 

"  Then  I  should  like  to  see  it;  but  I  cannot,  — 
I  cannot  go." 

'^Not  go!  —  my  beloved  creature,  what  do  you 
mean?  " 

*^I  cannot  go,  because,"  looking  down  as  she 
spoke,  fearful  of  Isabella's  smile,  ''I  expect  Miss 
Tilney  and  her  brother  to  call  on  me  to  take  a 
country  walk.  The}^  promised  to  come  at  twelve, 
only  it  rained!  but  now,  as  it  is  so  fine,  I  dare 
say  they  will  be  here  soon." 

''Not  they,  indeed,"  cried  Thorpe;  ''for  as  we 
turned  into  Broad  Street,  I  saw  them.  Does  he 
not  drive  a  phaeton  with  bright  chestnuts?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  indeed." 

"Yes,  I  know  he  does;  I  saw  him.  You  are 
talking  of  the  man  you  danced  with  last  night,  are 
not  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  saw  him  at  that  moment  turn  up  the 
Lansdown  Road,  driving  a  smart-looking  girl." 

"Did  you,  indeed?" 

"  Did,  upon  my  soul;  knew  him  again  directly, 
and  he  seemed  to  have  got  some  very  pretty  cattle 
too." 

"It  is  very  odd!  but  I  suppose  they  thought  it 
would  be  too  dirty  for  a  walk." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  99 

**  And  well  they  might,  for  I  never  saw  so  much 
dirt  in  my  life.  Walk!  you  could  no  more  walk 
than  you  could  fly !  It  has  not  been  so  dirty  the 
whole  winter;  it  is  ankle-deep  everywhere.'' 

Isabella  corroborated  it:  ^^My  dearest  Cather- 
ine, you  cannot  form  an  idea  of  the  dirt.  Come, 
you  must  go;  you  cannot  refuse  going  now.'' 

<^I  should  like  to  see  the  castle;  but  may  we 
go  all  over  it?  May  we  go  up  every  staircase  and 
into  every  suite  of  rooms?  " 

^*  Yes,  yes;  every  hole  and  corner." 

*'But  then,  — if  they  should  only  be  gone  out 
for  an  hour  till  it  is  drier,  and  call  by  and  by?  " 

*'Make  yourself  easy,  there  is  no  danger  of  that; 
for  I  heard  Tilney  hallooing  to  a  man  who  was  just 
passing  by  on  horseback,  that  they  were  going  as 
far  as  Wick  Rocks." 

''  Then  I  will.     Shall  I  go,  Mrs.  Allen?  " 

*^  Just  as  you  please,  my  dear." 

^^Mrs.  Allen,  you  must  persuade  her  to  go," 
was  the  general  cry,.  Mrs.  Allen  was  not  inatten- 
jtive  to  it.  ^'Well,  my  dear,"  said  she,  *^  suppose 
lyou  go."  And  in  two  minutes  they  were  off. 
I  Catherine's  feelings,  as  she  got  into  the  carriage, 
[were  in  a  very  unsettled  state;  divided  between  re- 
gret for  the  loss  of  one  great  pleasure,  and  the 
jhope  of  soon  enjoying  another,  almost  its  equal  in 
[degree,  however  unlike  in  kind.  She  could  not 
(think  the  Tilneys  had  acted  quite  well  by  her  in 
jso  readily  giving  up  their  engagement  without 
[sending  her  any  message  of  excuse.  It  was  now 
I  but  an  hour  later  than  the  time  fixed  on  for  the 
j beginning  of  their  walk;  and  in  spite  of  what  she 


100  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

had  heard  of  the  prodigious  accumulation  of  dirt 
in  the  course  of  that  hour,  she  could  not,  from  her 
own  observation,  help  thinking  that  they  might 
have  gone  with  very  little  inconvenience.  To  feel 
herself  slighted  by  them  was  very  painful.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  delight  of  exploring  an  edifice 
like  Udolpho,  as  her  fancy  represented  Blaize  Cas- 
tle to  be,  was  such  a  counterpoise  of  good  as  might 
console  her  for  almost  an3^thing. 

They  passed  briskly  down  Pulteney  Street 
and  through  Laura  Place,  without  the  exchange 
of  many  words.  Thorpe  talked  to  his  horse,  and 
she  meditated,  by  turns,  on  broken  promises  and 
broken  arches,  phaetons  and  false  hangings,  Til- 
neys  and  trap-doors.  As  they  entered  Argyle 
Buildings,  however,  she  was  roused  by  this  address 
from  her  companion:  *^Who  is  that  girl  who 
looked  at  you  so  hard  as  she  went  by?  " 

^^  Who?  — where?'' 

^'On  the  right-hand  pavement, — she  must  be 
almost  out  of  sight  now."  Catherine  looked  round 
and  saw  Miss  Tilney,  leaning  on  her  brother's 
arm,  walking  slowly  down  the  street.  She  saw 
them  both  looking  back  at  her.  ^'  Stop,  stop,  Mr. 
Thorpe,"  she  impatiently  cried,  "it  is  Miss  Til- 
ney; it  is  indeed.  How  could  you  tell  me  they 
were  gone  ?  Stop,  stop,  I  will  get  out  this  mo- 
ment and  go  to  them."  But  to  what  purpose  did 
she  speak  ?  Thorpe  only  lashed  his  horse  into  a 
brisker  trot;  the  Tilneys,  who  had  soon  ceased  to 
look  after  her,  were  in  a  moment  out  of  sight 
round  the  corner  of  Laura  Place,  and  in  another 
moment  she  was  herself  whisked  into  the  Market 


NORTHANGEE   ABBEYS.  101 

Place.  Still,  however,  and  during  t'ne  'lfcngi;li  of 
another  street,  she  entreated  him  to  stop.  ^'Pray, 
pray,  stop,  Mr.  Thorpe.  I  cannot  go  on,  —  I  will 
not  go  on;  I  must  go  back  to  Miss  Tilney.'* 
But  Mr.  Thorpe  only  laughed,  smacked  his  whip, 
encouraged  his  horse,  made  odd  noises,  and  drove 
on;  and  Catherine,  angry  and  vexed  as  she  was, 
having  no  power  of  getting  away,  was  obliged  to 
give  up  the  point  and  submit.  Her  reproaches, 
however,  were  not  spared.  ^^  How  could  you  de- 
ceive me  so,  Mr.  Thorpe?  How  could  you  say 
that  you  saw  them  driving  up  the  Lansdown 
Eoad?  I  would  not  have  had  it  happen  so  for  the 
world.  They  must  think  it  so  strange,  so  rude  of 
me,  to  go  by  them  too,  without  saying  a  word! 
You  do  not  know  how  vexed  I  am.  I  shall  have 
no  pleasure  at  Clifton,  nor  in  anything  else.  1 
had  rather,  ten  thousand  times  rather,  get  out  now, 
and  walk  back  to  them.  How  could  you  say  you 
saw  them  driving  out  in  a  phaeton?''  Thorpe  de- 
fended himself  very  stoutly,  declared  he  had  never 
seen  two  men  so  much  alike  in  his  life,  and  would 
hardly  give  up  the  point  of  its  having  been  Tilney 
himself. 

Their  drive,  even  when  this  subject  was  over, 
was  not  likely  to  be  very  agreeable.  Catherine's 
complaisance  was  no  longer  what  it  had  been  in 
their  former  airing.  She  listened  reluctantly,  and 
her  replies  were  short.  Blaize  Castle  remained  her 
only  comfort;  towards  that  she  still  looked  at  in- 
tervals with  pleasure;  though  rather  than  be  disap- 
pointed of  the  promised  walk,  and  especially  rather 
than  be  thought  ill  of  by  the  Tilneys,  she  would 


i 


10^  NOIiTiiANGER  ABBEY. 

wiriiiigly  liave  g'iven  \ip  all  the  happiness  which  its 
walls  could  supply,  —  the  happiness  of  a  progress 
through  a  long  suite  of  lofty  rooms  exhibiting  the 
remains  of  magnificent  furniture,  though  now  for 
many  years  deserted,  — the  happiness  of  being 
stopped  in  their  way  along  narrow,  winding  vaults, 
by  a  low,  grated  door;  or  even  of  having  their  lamp, 
their  only  lamp,  extinguished  by  a  sudden  gust  of 
wind,  and  of  being  left  in  total  darkness.  In  the 
mean  while  they  proceeded  on  their  journey  with- 
out any  mischance;  and  were  within  view  of  the 
town  of  Keynsham,  when  a  halloo  from  Morland, 
who  was  behind  them,  made  his  friend  pull  up,  to 
know  what  was  the  matter.  The  others  then  came 
close  enough  for  conversation ;  and  Morland  said, 
^^We  had  better  go  back,  Thorpe;  it  is  too  late  to 
go  on  to-day;  your  sister  thinks  so  as  well  as  I. 
We  have  been  exactly  an  hour  coming  from  Pulte- 
ney  Street,  very  little  more  than  seven  miles;  and, 
I  suppose,  we  have  at  least  eight  more  to  go.  It 
will  never  do.  We  set  out  a  great  deal  too  late. 
We  had  much  better  put  it  off  till  another  day,  and 
turn  round.'' 

^^It  is  all  one  to  me,''  replied  Thorpe,  rather 
angrily;  and  instantly  turning  his  horse,  the}?- were 
on  their  way  back  to  Bath. 

^^  If  your  brother  had  not  got  such  a  d d  beast 

to  drive,"  said  he  soon  afterwards,  ^^we  might 
have  done  it  very  well.  My  horse  would  have 
trotted  to  Clifton  within  the  hour,  if  left  to  him- 
self, and  I  have  almost  broke  my  arm  with  pulling 
him  in  to  that  cursed  broken-winded  jade's  pace. 
Morland  is  a  fool  for  not  keeping  a  horse  and  gig 
of  his  own." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  103 

"No,  he  is  not/'  said  Catherine,  warmly;    ^^for 
I  am  sure  he  could  not  afford  it.'' 

'^And  why  cannot  he  afford  it?" 

'^ Because  he  has  not  money  enough." 

'^  And  whose  fault  is  that?" 

"Nobody's,  that  I  know  of."     Thorpe  then  said 
something  in  the  loud,  incoherent  way  to  which  he 

had  often  recourse,  about  its  being  a  d d  thing 

to  be  miserly;  and  that  if  people  who  rolled  in 
money  could  not  afford  things,  he  did  not  know 
who  could,  —  which  Catherine  did  not  even  endeavor 
to  understand.  Disappointed  of  what  was  to  have 
been  the  consolation  for  her  first  disappointment, 
she  was  less  and  less  disposed  either  to  be  agreeable 
herself,  or  to  find  her  companion  so;  and  they  re- 
turned to  Pulteney  Street  without  her  speaking 
twenty  words. 

As  she  entered  the  house,  the  footman  told  her 
that  a  gentleman  and  lady  had  called  and  inquired 
for  her  a  few  minutes  after  her  setting  off;  that 
when  he  told  them  she  was  gone  out  with  Mr. 
Thorpe,  the  lady  had  asked  whether  any  message 
had  been  left  for  her;  and  on  his  saying  no,  had  felt 
for  a  card,  but  said  she  had  none  about  her,  and 
went  away.  Pondering  over  these  heart-rending 
tidings,  Catherine  walked  slowly  upstairs.  At 
the  head  of  them  she  was  met  by  Mr.  Allen,  who, 
m  hearing  the  reason  of  their  speedy  return,  said : 
"I  am  glad  your  brother  had  so  much  sense;  I  am 
^lad  you  are  come  back.  It  was  a  strange,  wild 
scheme." 

They  all  spent  the  evening  together  at  Thorpe's. 
Catherine  was   disturbed  and  out  of  spirits;   but 


104  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

Isabella  seemed  to  find  a  pool  of  commerce,  in  the 
fate  of  which  she  shared  by  private  partnership  with 
Morland,  a  very  good  equivalent  for  the  quiet  and 
country  air  of  an  inn  at  Clifton.  Her  satisfaction, 
too,  in  not  being  at  the  Lower  Booms,  was  spoken 
more  than  once.  *^How  I  pity  the  poor  creatures 
that  are  going  there!  How  glad  I  am  that  I  am  not 
amongst  them !  I  wonder  whether  it  will  be  a  full 
ball  or  not !  They  have  not  begun  dancing  yet.  I 
would  not  be  there  for  all  the  world.  It  is  so  de- 
lightful to  have  an  evening  now  and  then  to  one's 
self.  I  dare  say  it  will  not  be  a  very  good  ball. 
I  know  the  Mitchells  will  not  be  there.  I  am  sure 
I  pity  everybody  that  is.  But  I  dare  say,  Mr. 
Morland,  you  long  to  be  at  it,  do  not  you?  I  am 
sure  you  do.  Well,  pray  do  not  let  anybody  here 
be  a  restraint  on  you.  I  dare  say  we  could  do  very 
well  without  you;  but  you  men  think  yourselves  of 
such  consequence." 

Catherine  could  almost  have  accused  Isabella  of 
being  wanting  in  tenderness  towards  herself  and 
her  sorrows ;  so  very  little  did  they  appear  to  dwell 
on  her  mind,  and  so  very  inadequate  was  the  com- 
fort she  offered.  ^^Do  not  be  so  dull,  my  dearest 
creature,"  she  whispered.  ^' You  will  quite  break 
my  heart.  It  was  amazingly  shocking,  to  be  sure; 
but  the  Tilneys  were  entirely  to  blame.  Why 
were  not  they  more  punctual?  It  was  dirty,  in- 
deed, but  what  did  that  signify?  I  am  sure  John 
and  I  should  not  have  minded  it.  I  never  mind 
going  through  anything  where  a  friend  is  con- 
cerned; that  is  my  disposition,  and  John  is  just 
the  same;  he  has  amazing  strong  feelings.     Good 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  105 

heavens!  what  a  delightful  hand  you  have  got! 
Kings,  I  vow!  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life! 
I  would  fifty  times  rather  you  should  have  them 
than  myself/' 

And  now  I  may  dismiss  my  heroine  to  the  sleep' 
less  couch,  which  is  the  true  heroine's  portion;  to 
a  pillow  strewed  with  thorns  and  wet  with  tears. 
And  lucky  may  she  think  herself,  if  she  get  an- 
other good  night's  rest  in  the  course  of  the  next 
three  months. 


106  NORTHANGER  ABBEy( 


CHAPTEE   XII. 

<^  Mrs.  Allen,'*  said  Catherine,  the  next  morning, 
*^will  there  be  any  harm  in  my  calling  on  Miss 
Tilney  to-day?  I  shall  not  be  easy  till  I  have 
explained  everything." 

^'Go,  by  all  means,  my  dear;  only  put  on  a 
white  gown.     Miss  Tilney  always  wears  white." 

Catherine  cheerfully  complied;  and  being  prop- 
erly equipped,  was  more  impatient  than  ever  to  be 
at  the  Pump-room,  that  she  might  inform  herself 
of  General  Tilney's  lodgings;  for  though  she  be- 
lieved they  were  in  Milsom  Street,  she  was  not 
certain  of  the  house;  and  Mrs.  Allen's  wavering 
convictions  only  made  it  more  doubtful.  To  Mil- 
som Street  she  was  directed;  and  having  made  her- 
self perfect  in  the  number,  hastened  away  with 
eager  steps  and  a  beating  heart  to  pay  her  visit, 
explain  her  conduct,  and  be  forgiven.  Tripping 
lightly  through  the  churchyard,  and  resolutely 
turning  away  her  eyes,  that  she  might  not  be 
obliged  to  see  her  beloved  Isabella,  and  her  dear 
family,  who  she  had  reason  to  believe  were  in  a 
shop  hard  by,  she  reached  the  house  without  any 
impediment,  looked  at  the  number,  knocked  at  the 
door,  and  inquired  for  Miss  Tilney.  The  man 
believed  Miss  Tilney  to  be  at  home,  but  was  not 
quite  certain.  Would  she  be  pleased  to  send  up 
her  name?     She  gave  her  card.     In  a  few  minutes 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  107 

the  servant  returned,  and,  with  a  look  which  did 
not  quite  confirm  his  words,  said  he  had  been  mis- 
taken, for  that  Miss  Tilney  was  walked  out. 
Catherine,  with  a  blush  of  mortification,  left  the 
house.  She  felt  almost  persuaded  that  Miss  Tilney 
was  at  home,  and  too  much  offended  to  admit  her; 
and  as  she  retired  down  the  street,  could  not 
withhold  one  glance  at  the  drawing-room  windows, 
in  expectation  of  seeing  her  there,  —  but  no  one 
appeared  at  them.  At  the  bottom  of  the  street, 
however,  she  looked  back  again;  and  then,  not  at 
a  window,  but  issuing  from  the  door,  she  saw  Miss 
Tilney  herself ;  she  was  followed  by  a  gentleman, 
whom  Catherine  believed  to  be  her  father,  and 
they  turned  up  towards  Edgar's  Buildings.  Cath- 
erine, in  deep  mortification,  proceeded  on  her  way. 
She  could  almost  be  angr}^  herself  at  such  angry 
incivility ;  but  she  checked  the  resentful  sensation : 
she  remembered  her  own  ignorance.  She  knew 
not  how  such  an  offence  as  hers  might  be  classed 
by  the  laws  of  worldly  politeness,  —  to  what  a  de- 
gree of  unforgiveness  it  might  with  propriety 
lead,  —  nor  to  what  rigors  of  rudeness  in  return  it 
might  justly  make  her  amenable.  Dejected  and 
humbled,  she  had  even  some  thoughts  of  not  going 
with  the  others  to  the  theatre  that  night;  but  it 
must  be  confessed  that  they  were  not  of  long  con- 
tinuance :  for  she  soon  recollected,  in  the  first  place, 
that  she  was  without  any  excuse  for  staying  at 
home;  and,  in  the  second,  that  it  was  a  play  she 
wanted  very  much  to  see.  To  the  theatre  accord- 
ingly they  all  went ;  no  Tilneys  appeared,  to  plague 
01  please  her:  she  feared  that,  amongst  the  many 


108  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

perfections  of  the  family,  a  fondness  for  plays  was 
not  to  be  ranked;  but  perhaps  it  was  because  they 
were  habituated  to  the  finer  performances  of  the 
London  stage,  which  she  knew,  on  Isabella's 
authority,  rendered  everything  else  of  the  kind 
^'  quite  horrid."  She  was  not  deceived  in  her  own 
expectation  of  pleasure:  the  comedy  so  well  sus- 
pended her  care,  that  no  one,  observing  her  during 
the  first  four  acts,  would  have  supposed  she  had 
any  wretchedness  about  her.  On  the  beginning  of 
the  fifth,  however,  the  sudden  view  of  Mr.  Henry 
Tilney  and  his  father  joining  a  party  in  the  oppo- 
site box  recalled  her  to  anxiety  and  distress.  The 
stage  could  no  longer  excite  genuine  merriment,  — 
no  longer  keep  her  whole  attention.  Every  other 
look  upon  an  average  was  directed  towards  the  op- 
posite box ;  and  for  the  space  of  two  entire  scenes 
did  she  thus  watch  Henry  Tilney,  without  being 
once  able  to  catch  his  eye.  No  longer  could  he  be 
suspected  of  indifference  for  a  play ;  his  notice  was 
never  withdrawn  from  the  stage  during  two  whole 
scenes.  At  length,  however,  he  did  look  towards 
her,  and  he  bowed  —  but  such  a  bow !  no  smile,  no 
continued  observance  attended  it;  his  eyes  were 
immediately  returned  to  their  former  direction. 
Catherine  was  restlessly  miserable;  she  could  al- 
most have  run  round  to  the  box  in  which  he  sat, 
and  forced  him  to  hear  her  explanation.  Feelings 
rather  natural  than  heroic  possessed  her;  instead  of 
considering  her  own  dignity  injured  by  this  ready 
condemnation,  —  instead  of  proudly  resolving,  in 
conscious  innocence,  to  show  her  resentment  to- 
wards him  who  could  harbor  a  doubt  of  it,  to  leave 


NORTHANGEK  ABBEY.  109 

to  him  all  the  trouble  of  seeking  an  explanation, 
and  to  enlighten  him  on  the  past  only  by  avoiding 
his  sight,  or  flirting  with  somebody  else,  she  took 
to  herself  all  the  shame  of  misconduct,  or,  at  least, 
of  its  appearance,  and  was  only  eager  for  an  oppor- 
tunity of  explaining  its  cause. 

The  play  concluded, — the  curtain  fell;   Henry 
Tilney  was  no  longer  to  be  seen  where  he  had 
hitherto  sat,  but  his  father  remained,  and  perhaps 
he  might  be  now  coming  round  to  their  box.     She 
was  right:  in   a   few  minutes   he   appeared,    and 
making  his  way  through  the  then  thinning  rows, 
I  spoke  with  like  calm  politeness  to  Mrs.  Allen  and 
I  her  friend.     Not  with  such  calmness  was  he  an- 
swered by  the  latter.      '^Oh,   Mr.  Tilney,   I  have 
[been   quite  wild   to  speak  to  you  and  make   my 
.apologies.     You  must  have  thought  me  so  rude; 
but  indeed  it  was  not  my  own   fault, — was    it, 
Mrs.  Allen?   Did  not  they  tell  me  that  Mr.  Tilney 
and  his  sister  were  gone  out  in  a  phaeton  together? 
and  then  what  could  I  do?     But  I  had  ten  thou- 
sand times  rather  have  been  with  you.     Now  had 
not  I,  Mrs.  Allen?  " 

^'My  dear,  you  tumble  my  gown,"  was  Mrs. 
Allen's  reply. 

Her  assurance,  however,  standing  sole  as  it  did, 
was  not  thrown  away;  it  brought  a  more  cordial, 
more  natural  smile  into  his  countenance,  and  he 
replied  in  a  tone  which  retained  only  a  little 
affected  reserve:  ''We  were  much  obliged  to  you, 
at  any  rate,  for  wishing  us  a  pleasant  walk  after 
our  passing  you  in  Argyle  Street.  You  were  so 
kind  as  to  look  back  on  purpose." 


110  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


(C 


But,  indeed,  I  did  not  wish  you  a  pleasant 
walk, — I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing;  but  I 
begged  Mr.  Thorpe  so  earnestly  to  stop;  I  called 
out  to  him  as  soon  as  ever  I  saw  you.  Now,  Mrs. 
Allen,  did  not  —  Oh !  you  were  not  there.  But, 
indeed,  I  did;  and  if  Mr.  Thorpe  would  only  have 
stopped,  I  would  have  jumped  out  and  run  after 
you." 

Is  there  a  Henry  in  the  world  who  could  be  in- 
sensible to  such  a  declaration?  Henry  Tilney,  at 
least,  was  not.  With  a  yet  sweeter  smile  he  said 
everything  that  need  be  said  of  his  sister's  con- 
cern, regret,  and  dependence  on  Catherine's  honor, 
^'Oh,  do  not  say  Miss  Tilney  was  not  angry," 
cried  Catherine,  *' because  I  know  she  was;  for 
she  would  not  see  me  this  morning  when  I  called : 
I  saw  her  walk  out  of  the  house  the  next  minute 
after  my  leaving  it.  I  was  hurt,  but  I  was  not 
affronted.  Perhaps  you  did  not  know  I  had  been 
there." 

^^I  was  not  within  at  the  time;  but  I  heard  of  it 
from  Eleanor,  and  she  has  been  wishing  ever  since 
to  see  you,  to  explain  the  reason  of  such  incivility; 
but,  perhaps,  I  can  do  it  as  well.  It  was  nothing 
more  than  that  my  father  —  they  were  just  pre- 
paring to  walk  out,  and  he  being  hurried  for  time, 
and  not  caring  to  have  it  put  off,  made  a  point  of 
her  being  denied.  That  was  all,  I  do  assure  you 
She  was  very  much  vexed,  and  meant  to  make  her 
apology  as  soon  as  possible." 

Catherine's  mind  was  greatly  eased  by  this  in- 
formation, yet  a  something  of  solicitude  remained, 
from  which  sprang  the  following  question,  thor- 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.         Ill 

I  oughly  artless  in  itself,  though  rather  distressing 
to  the  gentleman:  ''But,  Mr.  Tilney,  why  were 
3^ou  less  generous  than  your  sister?  If  she  felt 
such  confidence  in  my  good  intentions,  and  could 
suppose  it  to  be  only  a  mistake,  why  should  you 
be  so  ready  to  take  offence?" 
\     ^'Mel  — I  take  offence!" 

''Nay,  I  am  sure  by  your  look,  when  you  came 
into  the  box,  you  were  angry." 

^'  I  angry!  I  could  have  no  right." 

"  Well,  nobody  would  have  thought  you  had  no 
right  who  saw  your  face." 

He  replied  by  asking  her  to  make  room  for  him, 
and  talking  of  the  play. 

He  remained  with  them  some  time,  and  was 
only  too  agreeable  for  Catherine  to  be  contented 
when  he  went  away.  Before  they  parted,  how- 
ever, it  was  agreed  that  the  projected  walk  should 
be  taken  as  soon  as  possible;  and  setting  aside 
the  misery  of  his  quitting  their  box,  she  was, 
upon  the  whole,  left  one  of  the  happiest  creatures 
in  the  world. 

While  talking  to  each  other,  she  had  observed 
with  some  surprise  that  John  Thorpe,  who  was 
never  in  the  same  part  of  the  house  for  ten  min- 
utes together,  was  engaged  in  conversation  with 
General  Tilney;  and  she  felt  something  more  than 
surprise  when  she  thought  she  could  perceive  her- 
self the  object  of  their  attention  and  discourse. 
What  could  they  have  to  say  of  her?  She  feared 
-General  Tilney  did  not  like  her  appearance.  She 
found  it  was  implied  in  his  preventing  her  admit- 
tance  to  his    daughter,   rather  than  postpone   his 


112  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

own  walk  a  few  minutes.  ^'How  came  Mr. 
Thorpe  to  know  j^our  father?"  was  her  anxious 
inquiry,  as  she  pointed  them  out  to  her  compan- 
ion. He  knew  nothing  about  it;  but  his  father, 
like  every  military  man,  had  a  very  large  ac- 
quaintance. 

When  the  entertainment  was  over,  Thorpe  came 
to  assist  them  in  getting  out.  Catherine  was  the 
immediate  object  of  his  gallantry;  and  while  they 
waited  in  the  lobby  for  a  chair,  he  prevented  the 
inquiry  which  had  travelled  from  her  heart  almost 
to  the  tip  of  her  tongue,  by  asking,  in  a  conse- 
quential manner,  whether  she  had  seen  him  talk- 
ing with  General  Tilney.  "He  is  a  fine  old 
fellow,  upon  my  soul !  —  stout,  active,  —  looks  as 
young  as  his  son.  I  have  a  great  regard  for  him, 
I  assure  you.  A  gentlemanlike,  good  sort  of  a 
fellow  as  ever  lived.'' 

'^But  how  came  you  to  know  him?" 
*^Know  him!  There  are  few  people  much  about 
town  that  I  do  not  know.  I  have  met  him  for- 
ever at  the  Bedford;  and  I  knew  his  face  again  to- 
day the  moment  he  came  into  the  billiard-room. 
One  of  the  best  players  we  have,  by  the  by;  and 
we  had  a  little  touch  together,  though  I  was  almost 
afraid  of  him  at  first.  The  odds  were  five  to  four 
against  me;  and  if  I  had  not  made  one  of  the 
cleanest  strokes  that  perhaps  ever  was  made  in 
this  world  —  I  took  his  ball  exactly  —  but  I  could 
not  make  you  understand  it  without  a  table :  how- 
ever, I  did  beat  him.  A  very  fine  fellow;  as  rich 
as  a  Jew.  I  should  like  to  dine  with  him;  I  dare 
say  he  gives  famous  darners.     But  what  do  you 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  113 

think  we  have  been  talking  of?  You.  Yes,  by 
heavens!  and  the  General  thinks  you  the  finest 
girl  in  Bath.'' 

''Oh,  nonsense!  how  can  you  say  so?*' 

''And  what  do  you  think  I  said? "  lowering 
his  voice.  "  'Well  done,  General,'  said  I,  'I  am 
quite  of  your  mind.' " 

Here  Catherine,  who  was  much  less  gratified  by 
his  admiration  than  by  General  Tilney's,  was  not 
sorry  to  be  called  away  by  Mr.  Allen.  Thorpe, 
however,  would  see  her  to  her  chair,  and,  till  she 
entered  it,  continued  the  same  kind  of  delicate 
flattery,  in  spite  of  her  entreating  him  to  have 
done. 

That  General  Tilney,  instead  of  disliking, 
should  admire  her,  was  very  delightful;  and  she 
joyfully  thought  that  there  was  not  one  of  the 
family  whom  she  need  now  fear  to  meet.  The 
evening  had  done  more,  much  more  for  her  than 
could  have  been  expected. 


H4  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Fri- 
day, and  Saturday  have  now  passed  in  review  be- 
fore the  reader;  the  events  of  each  day,  its  hopes 
and  fears,  mortifications  and  pleasures,  have  been 
separately  stated,  and  the  pangs  of  Sunday  only 
now  remain  to  be  described,  and  close  the  week. 
The  Clifton  scheme  had  been  deferred,  not  relin- 
quished; and  on  the  afternoon's  Crescent  of  this 
day  it  was  brought  forward  again.  In  a  private 
consultation  between  Isabella  and  James,  the  for- 
mer of  whom  had  particularly  set  her  heart  upon 
going,  and  the  latter  no  less  anxiously  placed  his 
upon  pleasing  her,  it  was  agreed  that  provided  the 
weather  were  fair,  the  pavty  should  take  place  on  the 
following  morning;  and  they  were  to  set  off  very 
early,  in  order  to  be  at  home  in  good  time.  The 
affair  thus  determined,  and  Thorpe's  approbation 
secured,  Catherine  only  remained  to  be  apprised 
of  it.  She  had  left  them  for  a  few  minutes  to 
speak  to  Miss  Tilney.  In  that  interval  the  plan 
was  completed,  and  as  soon  as  she  came  again, 
her  agreement  was  demanded;  but  instead  of  the 
gay  acquiescence  expected  by  Isabella,  Catherine 
looked  grave,  was  very  sorry,  but  could  not  go. 
The  engagement  which  ought  to  have  kept  her 
from  joining  in  the  former  attempt  would  make  it 
impossible  for  her  to  accompany  them  now.  She 
had  that  moment  settled  With  Miss  Tilney  to  take 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY,  115 

their  promised  walk  to-morrow;  it  was  quite  de- 
termined, and  she  would  not,  upon  any  account, 
retract.  But  that  she  must  and  should  retract 
was  instantly  the  eager  cry  of  both  the  Thorpes ; 
they  must  go  to  Clifton  to-morrow,  they  would 
not  go  without  her;  it  would  be  nothing  to  put  off 
a  mere  walk  for  one  day  longer,  and  they  would 
not  hear  of  a  refusal.  Catherine  was  distressed, 
but  not  subdued.  ''Do  not  urge  me,  Isabella.  I 
am  engaged  to  Miss  Tilney.  I  cannot  go.''  This 
availed  nothing.  The  same  arguments  assailed 
her  again;  she  must  go,  she  should  go,  and  they 
would  not  hear  of  a  refusal.  ''It  would  be  so 
easy  to  tell  Miss  Tilney  that  you  had  just  been  re- 
minded of  a  prior  engagement,  and  must  only  beg 
to  put  off  the  walk  till  Tuesday." 

"No,  it  would  not  be  easy.  I  could  not  do  it. 
There  has  been  no  prior  engagement.''  But  Isa- 
bella became  only  more  and  more  urgent;  calling 
on  her  in  the  most  affectionate  manner,  address- 
ing her  by  the  most  endearing  names.  She  was 
sure  her  dearest,  sweetest  Catherine  would  not 
seriously  refuse  such  a  trifling  request  to  a  friend 
who  loved  her  so  dearly.  She  knew  her  beloved 
Catherine  to  have  so  feeling  a  heart,  so  sweet  a 
temper,  to  be  so  easily  persuaded  by  those  she 
loved.  But  all  in  vain;  Catherine  felt  herself  to 
be  in  the  right,  and  though  pained  by  such  tender, 
such  flattering  supplication,  could  not  allow  it  to 
influence  her.  Isabella  then  tried  another  method. 
She  reproached  her  with  having  more  affection  for 
Miss  Tilney,  though  she  had  known  her  so  little 
a  while,  than  for  her  best  and  oldest  friends ;  with 


116  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

being  grown  cold  and  indifferent,  in  short,  to- 
wards herself.  '^1  cannot  help  being  jealous,  Cath- 
erine, when  I  see  myself  slighted  for  strangers,  — 
I,  who  love  you  so  excessivel}^  When  once  my  af- 
fections are  placed,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  any- 
thing to  change  the^.  But  I  believe  my  feelings 
are  stronger  than  anybody's;  I  am  sure  ihej  are 
too  strong  for  my  own  peace;  and  to  see  myself 
supplanted  in  your  friendship  by  strangers  does 
cut  me  to  the  quick,  I  own.  These  Tilneys  seem 
to  swallow  up  everj^thing  else." 

Catherine  thought  this  reproach  equally  strange 
and  unkind.  Was  it  the  part  of  a  friend  thus  to 
expose  her  feelings  to  the  notice  of  others?  Isa- 
bella appeared  to  her  ungenerous  and  selfish,  re- 
gardless of  everything  but  her  own  gratification. 
These  painful  ideas  crossed  her  mind,  though 
she  said  nothing.  Isabella  in  the  mean  while 
had  applied  her  handkerchief  to  her  e^^es;  and 
Morland,  miserable  at  such  a  sight,  could  not  help 
saying,  ''Nay,  Catherine,  I  think  you  cannot  stand 
out  any  longer  now.  The  sacrifice  is  not  much; 
and  to  oblige  such  a  friend,  I  shall  think  you 
quite  unkind  if  you  still  refuse." 

This  was  the  first  time  of  her  brother's  openly 
siding  against  her;  and  anxious  to  avoid  his 
displeasure,  she  proposed  a  compromise.  If  they 
would  only  put  off  their  scheme  till  Tuesday, 
which  they  might  easily  do,  as  it  depended  only 
on  themselves,  she  could  go  with  them,  and  every- 
body might  then  be  satisfied.  But  "No,  no, 
no!  "  was  the  immediate  answer;  ''that  could  not 
be,  for  Thorpe  did  not  know  that  he  might  not  go 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  117 

to  town  ou  Tuesday."  Catherine  was  sorry,  but 
could  do  no  more;  and  a  short  silence  ensued, 
which  was  broken  by  Isabella,  who,  in  a  voice  of 
cold  resentment,  said,  ''Very  well,  then  there  is 
an  end  of  the  party.  If  Catherine  does  not  go,  I 
cannot.  I  cannot  be  the  only  woman.  I  would 
not,  upon  any  account  in  the  world,  do  so  improper 
►  a  thing." 

''  Catherine,  you  must  go,"  said  James. 

''But  why  cannot  Mr.  Thorpe  drive  one  of  his 
other  sisters?  I  dare  say  either  of  them  would 
like  to  go." 

"Thank  ye,"  cried  Thorpe;  "but  I  did  not 
come  to  Bath  to  drive  my  sisters  about,  and  look 

like  a  fool.     No,   if  you   do  not  go,  d me  if 

I  do.    I  only  go  for  the  sake  of  driving  you." 

"That  is  a  compliment  which  gives  me  no 
pleasure."  But  her  words  were  lost  on  Thorpe, 
who  had  turned  abruptly  away. 

The  three  others  still  continued  together,  walk- 
ing in  a  most  uncomfortable  manner  to  poor  Cath- 
erine; sometimes  not  a  word  was  said,  sometimes 
she  was  again  attacked  with  supplications  or  re- 
proaches, and  her  arm  was  still  linked  within 
Isabella's,  though  their  hearts  were  at  war.  At 
one  moment  she  was  softened,  at  another  irritated; 
always  distressed,  but  always  steady. 

"I  did  not  think  you  had  been  so  obstinate, 
Catherine,"  said  James:  "you  were  not  used  to  be 
so  hard  to  persuade;  you  once  were  the  kindest, 
best-tempered  of  my  sisters." 

"I  hope  I  am  not  less  so  now,"  she  replied 
very  feelingly;  "  but  indeed  I  cannot  go.  If  I  am 
wrong,  I  am  doing  what  I  believe  to  be  right." 


118  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

*^I   suspect,"    said    Isabella,    in    a  low   voice, 
**  there   is  no   great  struggle." 

Catherine's  heart  swelled;  she  drew  away  her 
arm,  and  Isabella  made  no  opposition.  Thus 
passed  a  long  ten  minutes,  till  they  were  again;: 
joined  by  Thorpe,  who,  coming  to  them  with  a 
gayer  look,  said,  "Well,  I  have  settled  the  mat- 
ter, and  now  we  may  all  go  to-morrow  with  a  safe  ! 
conscience.  I  have  been  to  Miss  Tilney,  and  made 
your  excuses." 

*' You  have  not!  "  cried  Catherine. 

"I  have,  upon  my  soul.  Left  her  this  moment. 
Told  her  you  had  sent  me  to  say  that  having  just 
recollected  a  prior  engagement  of  going  to  Clifton 
with  us  to-morrow,  you  could  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  walking  with  her  till  Tuesday.  She  said  very 
well,  Tuesday  was  just  as  convenient  to  her;  so 
there  is  an  end  of  all  our  difficulties.  —  A  pretty 
good  thought  of  mine,  —  hey?  '' 

Isabella's  countenance  was  once  more  all  smiles 
and  good-humor,  and  James  too  looked  happy 
again. 

"A  most  heavenl}^  thought,  indeed!  Now,  my 
sweet  Catherine,  all  our  distresses  are  over;  you 
are  honorably  acquitted,  and  we  shall  have  a  most 
delightful  party."  ' 

"This  will  not  do,"  said  Catherine;  "I  cannot 
submit  to  this.  I  must  run  after  Miss  Tilney 
directly,    and  set  her  right." 

Isabella,  however,  caught  hold  of  one  hand, 
Thorpe  of  the  other;  and  remonstrances  poured  in 
from  all  three.  Even  James  was  quite  angry. 
When  everything  was  settled,  when  Miss  Tilney 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  119 

herself  said  that  Tuesday  would  suit  her  as  well, 
it  was  quite  ridiculous,  quite  absurd,  to  make  any 
further  objection. 

.  '^I  do  not  care.     Mr.   Thorpe  had  no  business 

to  invent  any  such  message.     If  I  had  thought  it 

right  to  put  it  off,  I  could  have   spoken  to  Miss 

Tilney  myself.     This  is  only  doing  it  in  a  ruder 

way;  and  how  do  I  know  that  Mr.   Thorpe  has  — 

He  may  be  mistaken  again,   perhaps:  he  led  me 

into  one  act  of  rudeness  hy  his  mistake  on  Friday. 

Let  me  go,  Mr.  Thorpe;  Isabella,  do  not  hold  me." 

Thorpe  told  her  it  would  be  in  vain  to  go  after 

i  the  Tilneys ;   they  w'ere  turning  the    corner  into 

I  Brock  Street,   when  he  had  overtaken  them,   and 

were  at  home  by  this  time. 

^'Then  I  will  go  after  them,"  said  Catherine; 
**  wherever  they  are,  I  will  go  after  them.  It  does 
not  signify  talking.  If  I  could  not  be  persuaded 
'  into  doing  what  I  thought  wrong,  I  never  will  be 
(tricked  into  it."  And  with  these  words  she  broke 
I  away  and  hurried  off.  Thorpe  would  have  darted 
J  after  her,  but  Morland  withheld  him.  ''Let  her 
I  go,  let  her  go,  if  she  will  go.  She  is  as  obstinate 
,as  — " 

Thorpe  never  finished  the  simile,  for  it  could 
hardly  have  been  a  proper  one. 

Away  walked  Catherine  in  great  agitation,  as 
fast  as  the  crowd  would  permit  her,  fearful  of 
being  pursued,  yet  determined  to  persevere.  As 
she  walked,  she  reflected  on  w^hat  had  passed.  It 
was  painful  to  her  to  disappoint  and  displease 
them,  particularly  to  displease  her  brother;  but 
she  could  not  repent  her  resistance.     Setting  her 


120  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

own  inclination  apart,  to  have  failed  a  second  time 
in  her  engagement  to  Miss  Tilney,  to  have  re- 
tracted a  promise  voluntarily  made  only  five  min- 
utes before,  and  on  a  false  pretence  too,  must  have 
been  wrong.  She  had  not  been  withstanding  them 
on  selfish  principles  alone,  she  had  not  consulted 
merely  her  own  gratification;  that  might  have  been 
insured  in  some  degree  by  the  excursion  itself,  by 
seeing  Blaize  Castle;  no,  she  had  attended  to  what 
was  due  to  others,  and  to  her  own  character  in 
their  opinion.  Her  conviction  of  being  right, 
however,  was  not  enough  to  restore  her  composure : 
till  she  had  spoken  to  Miss  Tilney,  she  could  not 
be  at  ease ;  and  quickening  her  pace  when  she  got 
clear  of  the  Crescent,  she  almost  ran  over  the  re- 
maining ground  till  she  gained  the  top  of  Milsomij 
Street.  So  rapid  had  been  her  movements,  that,  jii; 
in  spite  of  the  Tilneys'  advantage  in  the  outset, 
they  were  but  just  turning  into  their  lodgings  as 
she  came  within  view  of  them;  and  the  servant 
still  remaining  at  the  open  door,  she  used  only  the 
ceremony  of  saying  that  she  must  speak  with  Miss 
Tilney  that  moment,  and  hurrying  by  him  pro- 
ceeded upstairs.  Then,  opening  the  first  door  . 
before  her,   which  happened  to  be  the  right,   she  ti- 

k: 

k 


immediately  found  herself  in  the  drawing-room 
with  General  Tilney,  his  son  and  daughter.  Hei, 
explanation,  defective  only  in  being  —  from  her 
irritation  of  nerves  and  shortness  of  breath  —  nc 
explanation  at  all,  was  instantly  given.  "I  anj 
come  in  a  great  hurry  —  it  was  all  a  mistake — 1 
never  promised  to  go  —  I  told  them  from  the  firs'  sj^. 
I  could  not  go  —  I  ran  away  in  a  great  hurry  t<|ai,l 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  121 

explain  it  —  I  did  not  care  what  you  thought  of 
me  —  I  would  not  stay  for  the   servant." 

The  business,  however,  though  not  perfectly 
elucidated  by  this  speech,  soon  ceased  to  be  a 
puzzle.  Catherine  found  that  John  Thorpe  had 
given  the  message ;  and  Miss  Tilney  had  no  scruple 
j  in  owning  herself  greatly  surprised  by  it.  But 
i  whether  her  brother  had  still  exceeded  her  in  re- 
sentment, Catherine,  though  she  instinctively  ad- 
dressed herself  as  much  to  one  as  to  the  other  in 
her  vindication,  had  no  means  of  knowing.  What- 
ever might  have  been  felt  before  her  arrival,  her 
eager  declarations  immediately  made  every  look 
and  sentence  as  friendly  as  she  could  desire. 

The  affair  thus  happily  settled,  she  was  intro- 
duced by  Miss  Tilney  to  her  father,  and  received 
hy  him  with  such  ready,  such  solicitous  politeness, 
as  recalled  Thorpe's  information  to  her  mind,  and 
made  her  think  with  pleasure  that  he  might  be 
sometimes  depended  on.  To  such  anxious  atten- 
tion was  the  General's  civility  carried,  that,  not 
aware  of  her  extraordinary  swiftness  in  entering 
the  house,  he  was  quite  angry  with  the  servant 
whose  neglect  had  reduced  her  to  open  the  door  of 
the  apartment  herself.  ^'  What  did  William  mean 
by  it?  He  should  make  a  point  of  inquiring  into 
the  matter."  And  if  Catherine  had  not  most 
warmly  asserted  his  innocence,  it  seemed  likely 
that  William  would  lose  the  favor  of  his  master 
forever,   if  not  his  place,   by  her  rapidity. 

After  sitting  with  them  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
she  rose  to  take  leave,  and  was  then  most  agree- 
ably surprised  by  General  Tilney's  asking  her  if 


122  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

she  would  do  his  daughter  the  honor  of  dining  and 
spending  the  rest  of  the  day  with  her.  Miss 
Tihiey  added  her  own  wishes.  Catherine  was 
greatly  obliged;  but  it  was  quite  out  of  her  power. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allen  would  expect  her  back  every 
moment.  The  General  declared  he  could  say  no 
more :  the  claims  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allen  were  not 
to  be  superseded;  but  on  some  other  day,  he 
trusted,  when  longer  notice  could  be  given,  they 
would  not  refuse  to  spare  her  to  her  friend.  *'  Oh, 
no;  Catherine  was  sure  they  would  not  have  the 
least  objection,  and  she  should  have  great  pleasure 
in  coming."  The  General  attended  her  himself  to 
the  street-door,  saying  everything  gallant  as  they 
went  downstairs,  admiring  the  elasticity  of  her 
walk,  which  corresponded  exactly  with  the  spirit 
of  her  dancing,  and  making  her  one  of  the  most 
graceful  bows  she  had  ever  beheld  when  they 
parted. 

Catherine,  delighted  by  all  that  had  passed,  pro- 
ceeded gayl}'-  to  Pulteney  Street;  walking,  as  she 
concluded,  with  great  elasticity,  though  she  had 
never  thought  of  it  before.  She  reached  home 
without  seeing  anything  more  of  the  offended 
party;  and  now  that  she  had  been  triumphant 
throughout,  had  carried  her  point,  and  was  secure 
of  her  walk,  she  began  (as  the  flutter  of  her  spirits 
subsided)  to  doubt  whether  she  had  been  perfectly 
right.  A  sacrifice  was  always  noble;  and  if  she 
had  given  way  to  their  entreaties,  she  should  have 
been  spared  the  distressing  idea  of  a  friend  dis- 
pleased, a  brother  angry,  and  a  scheme  of  great 
happiness  to  both  destroyed,  perhaps  through  her 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  123 

means.  To  ease  her  mind,  and  ascertain  by  the 
opinion  of  an  unprejudiced  person  what  her  own 
conduct  had  really  been,  she  took  occasion  to  men- 
tion before  Mr.  Allen  the  half-settled  scheme  of 
her  brother  and  the  Thorpes  for  the  following  day. 
Mr.  Allen  caught  at  it  directly.  ^<  Well,"  said  he, 
^^and  do  you  think  of  going  too?" 

^'No;  I  had  just  engaged  myself  to  walk  with 
Miss  Tilney  before  they  told  me  of  it;  and  there- 
fore, you  know,  I  could  not  go  with  them,  could 
I?  " 

"'No,  certainly  not;  and  I  am  glad  you  do  not 
think  of  it.  The  schemes  are  not  at  all  the  thing. 
Young  men  and  women  driving  about  the  country 
in  open  carriages !  !N^ow  and  then  it  is  very  well ; 
but  going  to  inns  and  public  places  together!  It  is 
not  right;  and  I  wonder  Mrs.  Thorpe  should  allow 
it.  I  am  glad  you  do  not  think  of  going;  I  am 
sure  Mrs.  Morland  would  not  be  pleased.  Mrs. 
Allen,  are  not  you  of  my  way  of  thinking?  Do  not 
you  think  these  kind  of  projects  objectionable?" 

"  Yes,  very  much  so,  indeed.  Open  carriages 
are  nasty  things.  A  clean  gown  is  not  five  min- 
utes' wear  in  them.  You  are  splashed  getting  in 
and  getting  out ;  and  the  wind  takes  your  hair  and 
your  bonnet  in  every  direction.  I  hate  an  open 
carriage  myself." 

'^I  know  you  do;  but  that  is  not  the  question. 
Do  not  you  think  it  has  an  odd  appearance,  if 
young  ladies  are  frequently  driven  about  in  them  by 
young  men,  to  whom  they  are  not  even  related?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  a  very  odd  appearance,  indeed. 
I  cannot  bear  to  see  it.'' 


124  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

'^  Dear  madam,"  cried  Catherine,  ^Ulien  why 
did  not  you  tell  me  so  before?  I  am  sure  if  I  had 
known  it  to  be  improper  I  would  not  have  gone 
with  Mr.  Thorpe  at  all;  but  I  alwa3's  hoped  you 
would  tell  me,  if  you  thought  I  was  doing  wrong.'' 

^^  And  so  I  should,  my  dear,  you  may  depend  on 
it;  for,  as  I  told  Mrs.  Morland  at  parting,  I  would 
always  do  the  best  for  you  in  my  power.  But  one 
must  not  be  over  particular.  Young  people  will 
be  young  people,  as  your  good  mother  says  herself. 
You  know  I  wanted  you,  when  we  first  came,  not 
to  buy  that  sprigged  muslin,  but  you  would. 
Young  people  do  not  like  to  be  always  thwarted." 

^^But  this  was  something  of  real  consequence; 
and  I  do  not  think  you  would  have  found  me  hard 
to  persuade." 

''As  far  as  it  has  gone  hitherto,  there  is  no 
harm  done,"  said  Mr.  Allen;  ''and  I  would  only 
advise  you,  my  dear,  not  to  go  out  with  Mr. 
Thorpe  any  more." 

"That  is  just  what  I  was  going  to  say,"  added 
his  wife. 

Catherine,  relieved  for  herself,  felt  uneasy  for 
Isabella;  and  after  a  moment's  thought,  asked  Mr. 
Allen  whether  it  would  not  be  both  proper  and 
kind  in  her  to  write  to  Miss  Thorpe,  and  explain 
the  indecorum  of  which  she  must  be  as  insensible 
as  herself;  for  she  considered  that  Isabella  might 
otherwise  perhaps  be  going  to  Clifton  the  next  day, 
in  spite  of  what  had  passed.  Mr.  Allen,  however, 
discouraged  her  from  doing  any  such  thing.  "  You 
had  better  leave  her  alone,  my  dear,  she  is  old 
enough  to  know  what  she  is  about;  and  if  not,  has 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  125 

a  mother  to  advise  her.  Mrs.  Thorpe  is  too  indul- 
gent beyond  a  doubt;  but,  however,  3^ou  had  better 
not  interfere.  She  and  your  brother  choose  to  go, 
and  you  will  be  only  getting  ill-will." 

Catherine  submitted;  and  though  sorry  to  think 
that  Isabella  should  be  doing  wrong,  felt  greatly 
relieved  by  Mr.  Allen's  approbation  of  her  own 
conduct,  and  truly  rejoiced  to  be  preserved  by  his 
advice  from  the  danger  of  falling  into  such  an  error 
herself.  Her  escape  from  being  one  of  the  party 
to  Clifton  was  now  an  escape  indeed;  for  what 
would  the  Tilneys  have  thought  of  her,  if  she  had 
broken  her  promise  to  them  in  order  to  do  what 
was  wrong  in  itself,  —  if  she  had  been  guilty  of 
one  breach  of  propriety,  only  to  enable  her  to  be 
guilty  of  another? 


I 


126  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTEE   XIV. 

The  next  morning  was  fair,  and  Catherine  al- 
most expected  another  attack  from  the  assembled 
party.  With  Mr.  Allen  to  support  her,  she  felt 
no  dread  of  the  event;  but  she  would  gladly  be 
spared  a  contest,  where  victory  itself  was  painful  j 
and  was  heartily  rejoiced,  therefore,  at  neither  see- 
ing nor  hearing  anything  of  them.  The  Tilnej^s 
called  for  her  at  the  appointed  time ;  and  no  new 
difficulty  arising,  no  sudden  recollection,  no  un- 
expected summons,  no  impertinent  intrusion,  to 
disconcert  their  measures,  my  heroine  was  most 
unnaturally  able  to  fulfil  her  engagement,  though -^ 
it  was  made  with  the  hero  himself.  They  deter- 
mined on  walking  round  Beechen  Cliff,  that  noble 
hill,  whose  beautiful  verdure  and  hanging  coppice 
render  it  so  striking  an  object  from  almost  every 
opening  in  Bath. 

^^I  never  look  at  it,''  said  Catherine,  as  they 
walked  along  the  side  of  the  river,  *' without 
thinking  of  the  south  of   France*   » 

^'  You  have  been  abroad,  then?  ''  said  Henry,  a 
little  surprised. 

"  Oh  no,  I  only  mean  what  I  have  read  about. 
It  always  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  country  that 
Emily  and  her  father  travelled  through,  in  the 
^Mysteries  of  Udolpho.'  But  you  never  read 
novels,  I  dare  say?  '' 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  127 

'^ Why  not?" 

'^  Because  they  are  not  clever  enough  for  you,  — 
gentlemen  read  better  books." 

''The  person,  be  it  gentleman  or  lady,  who 
has  not  pleasure  in  a  good  novel,  must  be  intoler- 
ably stupid.  I  have  read  all  Mrs.  Radcliffe's 
works,  and  most  of  them  with  great  pleasure.  The 
*  Mysteries  of  Udolpho, '  when  I  had  once  begun 
it,  I  could  not  lay  down  again;  I  remember  fin- 
ishing it  in  two  days,  my  hair  standing  on  end 
the  whole  time." 

''Yes,"  added  Miss  Tilney,  "and  I  remember 
that  you  undertook  to  read  it  aloud  to  me;  and 
that  when  I  was  called  away  for  only  five  minutes, 
to  answer  a  note,  instead  of  waiting  for  me,  you 
took  the  volume  into  the  Hermitage  Walk,  and  I 
was  obliged  to  stay  till  you  had  finished  it." 

"Thank  you,  Eleanor;  — a  most  honorable  testi- 
mony. You  see.  Miss  Morland,  the  injustice  of 
your  suspicions.  Here  was  I,  in  my  eagerness  to 
get  on,  refusing  to  wait  only  five  minutes  for  my 
sister;  breaking  the  promise  I  had  made  of  read- 
ing it  aloud,  and  keeping  her  in  suspense  at  a  most 
interesting  part,  by  running  away  with  the  vol- 
ume, which,  you  are  to  observe,  was  her  own,  par- 
ticularly her  own.  I  am  proud  when  I  reflect  on 
it,  and  I  think  it  must  establish  me  in  your  good 
opinion." 

' '  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,  indeed ;  and  now  I 
shall  never  be  ashamed  of  liking  Udolpho  myself. 
But  I  really  thought  before,  young  men  despised 
novels  amazingly." 

"It  is  amazingly;    it  may  well   suggest  amaze- 


128  NORTHANGEB  ABBEY. 

ment  if  they  do,  for  they  read  nearly  as  many  as 
women.  I  myself  have  read  hundreds  and  hun- 
dreds. Do  not  imagine  that  you  can  cope  with  me 
in  a  knowledge  of  Julias  and  Louisas.  If  we  pro- 
ceed to  particulars,  and  engage  in  the  never-ceasing 
inquiry  of  '  Have  you  read  this?'  and  ^  Have  you 
read  that?  '  I  shall  soon  leave  you  as  far  behind  me 
as — what  shall  I  say?  —  I  want  an  appropriate 
simile,  — as  far  as  your  friend  Emily  herself  left 
poor  Valancourt  when  she  went  with  her  aunt  into 
Italy.  Consider  how  many  years  I  have  had  the 
start  of  you.  I  had  entered  on  my  studies  at  Ox- 
ford while  you  were  a  good  little  girl,  working 
your  sampler  at  home!  '' 

^^  Not  very  good,  I  am  afraid.  But  now,  really, 
do  not  you  think  Udolpho  the  nicest  book  in  the 
world?" 

"The  nicest,  — by  which  I  suppose  you  mean  the 
neatest.     That  must  depend  upon  the  binding." 

"Henry,"  said  Miss  Tilney,  "you  are  very  im- 
pertinent. Miss  Morland,  he  is  treating  you  ex- 
actly as  he  does  his  sister.  He  is  forever  finding 
fault  with  me  for  some  incorrectness  of  language, 
and  now  he  is  taking  the  same  liberty  with  you. 
The  word  'nicest,'  as  you  used  it,  did  not  suit 
him:  and  you  had  better  change  it  as  soon  as  you 
can,  or  we  shall  be  overpowered  with  Johnson  and 
Blair  all  the  rest  of  the  way." 

"  I  am  sure,"  cried  Catherine,  "  I  did  not  mean 
to  say  anj^thing  wrong;  but  it  is  a  nice  book,  and 
why  should  not  I  call  it  so?" 

"Very  true,"  said  Henry,  "and  this  is  a  very 
nice  day;  and  we  are  taking  a  very  nice  walk;  and 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  129 

you  are  two  very  nice  young  ladies.  Oh,  it  is  a 
very  nice  word,  indeed !  —  it  does  for  everything. 
Originally,  perhaps,  it  was  applied  only  to  express 
neatness,  propriety,  delicacy,  or  refinement;  — 
people  were  nice  in  their  dress,  in  their  senti- 
ments, or  their  choice.  But  now  every  commen- 
dation on  every  subject  is  comprised  in  that  one 
word.'' 

*' While,  in  fact,"  cried  his  sister,  ^^it  ought 
only  to  be  applied  to  you,  without  any  commen- 
dation at  all.  You  are  more  nice  than  wise. 
Come,  Miss  Morland,  let  us  leave  him  to  meditate 
over  our  faults  in  the  utmost  propriety  of  diction, 
while  we  praise  Udolpho  in  whatever  terms  we 
like  best.  It  is  a  most  interesting  work.  You 
are  fond  of  that  kind  of  reading?  " 

*'  To  say  the  truth,  I  do  not  much  like  any 
other. " 

^  indeed!" 

"That  is,  I  can  read  poetry  and  plays,  and 
things  of  that  sort,  and  do  not  dislike  travels. 
But  history,  real  solemn  history,  I  cannot  be  in- 
terested in.     Can  you?'' 

*'  Yes,  I  am  fond  of  history." 

"  I  wish  I  were  too.  I  read  it  a  little  as  a  duty, 
but  it  tells  me  nothing  that  does  not  either  vex  or 
weary  me.  The  quarrels  of  popes  and  kings,  with 
w^ars  or  pestilences,  in  every  page ;  the  men  all  so 
good  for  nothing,  and  hardly  any  women  at  all  — 
it  is  very  tiresome ;  and  yet  I  often  think  it  odd 
that  it  should  be  so  dull,  for  a  great  deal  of  it 
must  be  invention.  The  speeches  that  are  put 
into  the  heroes'  mouths,  their  thoughts  and  designs 


130  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

—  the  chief  of  all  this  must  be  invention ;  and  in- 
vention is  what  delights  me  in  other  books." 

''Historians,  you  think,"  said  Miss  Tilney, 
''are  iiot  happy  in  their  flights  of  fancy.  They 
display  imagination  without  raising  interest.  I 
am  fond  of  history  —  and  am  very  well  contented 
to  take  the  false  with  the  true.  In  the  principal 
facts  they  have  sources  of  intelligence  in  former 
histories  and  records,  which  may  be  as  much  de- 
pended on,  I  conclude,  as  anything  that  does  not 
actuall}^  pass  under  one's  own  observation;  and  as 
for  the  little  embellishments  you  speak  of,  they 
are  embellishments,  and  I  like  them  as  such.  If 
a  speech  be  well  drawn  up,  I  read  it  with  pleasure, 
by  whomsoever  it  may  be  made  —  and  probably 
with  much  greater,  if  the  production  of  Mr.  Hume 
or  Dr.  Robertson,  than  if  the  genuine  words  of 
Caractacus,  Agricola,  or  Alfred  the  Great." 

"You  are  fond  of  history!  —  and  so  are  Mr. 
Allen  and  my  father;  and  I  have  two  brothers  who 
do  not  dislike  it.  So  many  instances  within  my 
small  circle  of  friends  is  remarkable !  At  this  rate, 
I  shall  not  pity  the  writers  of  history  any  longer. 
If  people  like  to  read  their  books,  it  is  all  very 
well;  but  to  be  at  so  much  trouble  in  filling  great 
volumes,  which,  as  I  used  to  think,  nobody  would 
willingly  ever  look  into,  to  be  laboring  only  for 
the  torment  of  little  boys  and  girls,  always  struck 
me  as  a  hard  fate;  and  though  I  know  it  is  all 
very  right  and  necessary,  I  have  often  wondered 
at  the  person's  courage  that  could  sit  down  on  pur- 
pose to  do  it." 

"  That    little   boys    and    girls    should    be   tor- 


NORTHANGEE  ABBEY.  131 

meiited,"  said  Henry,  ^^is  what  no  one  at  all  ac- 
quainted with  human  nature  in  a  civilized  state 
can  deny;  but  in  behalf  of  our  most  distinguished 
historians,  I  must  observe  that  they  might  well  be 
offended  at  being  supposed  to  have  no  higher  aim; 
and  that  by  their  method  and  style  they  are  per- 
fectly well  qualified  to  torment  readers  of  the  most 
advanced  reason  and  mature  time  of  life.  I  use 
the  verb  '  to  torment,'  as  I  observed  to  be  your  own 
method,  instead  of  *  to  instruct, '  supposing  them  to 
be  now  admitted  as  synonymous." 

^' You  think  me  foolish  to  call  instruction  a  tor- 
ment; but  if  you  had  been  as  much  used  as  myself 
to  hear  poor  little  children  first  learning  their  let- 
ters, and  then  learning  to  spell,  —  if  you  had  over 
seen  how  stupid  they  can  be  for  a  whole  morning 
together,  and  how  tired  my  poor  mother  is  at  the 
end  of  it,  as  I  am  in  the  habit  of  seeing  almost 
every  day  of  my  life  at  home,  —  you  would  allow 
that  to  torment  and  to  instruct  might  sometimes  be 
used  as  synonymous  words." 

'^Very  probably.  But  historians  are  not  ac- 
countable for  the  difficulty  of  learning  to  read; 
and  even  you  yourself,  who  do  not  altogether  seem 
particularly  friendly  to  very  severe,  very  intense 
application,  may  perhaps  be  brought  to  acknowl- 
edge that  it  is  very  well  worth  while  to  be  tor- 
mented for  two  or  three  years  of  one's  life,  for  the 
sake  of  being  able  to  read  all  the  rest  of  it.  Con- 
sider —  if  reading  had  not  been  taught,  Mrs. 
Radcliffe  would  have  written  in  vain,  or,  perhaps, 
might  not  have  written  at  all." 

Catherine  assented;  and  a  very  warm  panegyric 


132  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

from  her  on  that  lady's  merits  closed  the  subjec'. 
The  Tilneys  were  soon  engaged  in  another,  on 
which  she  had  nothing  to  say.  They  were  viewing 
the  country  with  the  eyes  of  persons  accustomed  to 
drawing;  and  decided  on  its  capability  of  being 
formed  into  pictures,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  real 
taste.  Here  Catherine  was  quite  lost.  She  knew 
nothing  of  drawing,  nothing  of  taste;  and  she 
listened  to  them  with  an  attention  which  brought 
her  little  profit,  for  they  talked  in  phrases  which 
conveyed  scarcely  any  idea  to  her.  The  little 
which  she  could  understand,  however,  appeared  to 
contradict  the  very  few  notions  she  had  entertained 
on  the  matter  before.  It  seemed  as  if  a  good  view 
were  no  longer  to  be  taken  from  the  top  of  a  high 
hill,  and  that  a  clear  blue  sky  was  no  longer  a 
proof  of  a  fine  day.  She  was  heartily  ashamed  of 
her  ignorance,  —  a  misplaced  shame.  Where  peo- 
ple wish  to  attach,  they  should  always  be  ignorant. 
To  come  with  a  well-informed  mind  is  to  come 
with  an  inability  of  administering  to  the  vanity  of 
others,  which  a  sensible  person  would  always  wish 
to  avoid.  A  woman,  especially,  if  she  have  the 
misfortune  of  knowing  anything,  should  conceal  it 
as  well  as  she  can. 

The  advantages  of  natural  folly  in  a  beautiful 
girl  have  been  already  set  forth  by  the  capital  pen 
of  a  sister  author;  and  to  her  treatment  of  the  sub- 
ject I  will  only  add,  in  justice  to  men,  that  though, 
to  the  larger  and  more  trifling  part  of  the  sex  im- 
becility in  females  is  a  great  enhancement  of  their 
personal  charms,  there  is  a  portion  of  them  too 
reasonable  and  too  well   informed  themselves    to 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  133 

desire  anything  more  in  woman  than  ignorance. 
But  Catherine  did  not  know  her  own  advantages, 
—  did  not  know  that  a  good-looking  girl,  with  an 
affectionate  heart  and  a  very  ignorant  mind,  can- 
not fail  of  attracting  a  clever  young  man,  unless 
circumstances  are  particularly  untoward.  In  the 
present  instance  she  confessed  and  lamented  her 
want  of  knowledge;  declared  that  she  would  give 
anj^thing  in  the  world  to  be  able  to  draw;  and  a 
lecture  on  the  picturesque  immediately  followed, 
in  which  his  instructions  were  so  clear  that  she 
soon  began  to  see  beauty  in  everything  admired  by 
him;  and  her  attention  was  so  earnest  that  he 
became  perfectly  satisfied  of  her  having  a  great 
deal  of  natural  taste.  He  talked  of  foregrounds, 
distances,  and  second  distances,  side-screens  and 
perspectives,  lights  and  shades;  and  Catherine 
was  so  hopeful  a  scholar  that  when  they  gained 
the  top  of  Beechen  Cliff,  she  voluntarily  rejected 
the  whole  city  of  Bath,  as  unworthy  to  make  part 
of  a  landscape.  Delighted  with  her  progress,  and 
fearful  of  wearying  her  with  too  much  wisdom  at 
once,  Henry  suffered  the  subject  to  decline;  and 
by  an  easy  transition  from  a  piece  of  rocky  frag- 
ment, and  the  withered  oak  which  he  had  placed 
near  its  summit,  to  oaks  in  general,  to  forests, 
the  enclosure  of  them,  waste  lands,  crown  lands 
and  government,  —  he  shortly  found  himself  ar- 
rived at  politics ;  and  from  politics  it  was  an  easy 
step  to  silence.  The  general  pause  which  suc- 
ceeded his  short  disquisition  on  the  state  of  the 
nation  was  put  an  end  to  by  Catherine,  who  in 
rather  a  solemn  tone  of  voice  uttered  these  words ; 


134  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

^'  I  have  heard  that  something  very  shocking 
indeed  will  soon  come  out  in  London/' 

Miss  Tilnej,  to  whom  this  was  chiefly  addressed, 
was  startled,  and  hastily  replied,  "Indeed!  and 
of  what  nature?  " 

^^  That  I  do  not  know,  nor  who  is  the  author.  I 
have  only  heard  that  it  is  to  he  more  horrible  than 
anything  we  hav^  met  with  yet." 

*^Good  heaven!  Where  could  you  hear  of  such 
a  thing?'' 

"A  particular  friend  of  mine  had  an  account  of 
it  in  a  letter  from  London  yesterday.  It  is  to  be 
uncommonly  dreadful.  I  shall  expect  murder  and 
everything  of  the  kind." 

"  You  speak  with  astonishing  composure!  But 
I  hope  your  friend's  accounts  have  been  exagger- 
ated; and  if  such  a  design  is  known  beforehand, 
proper  measures  will  undoubtedly  be  taken  by  gov- 
ernment to  prevent  its  coming  to  effect." 

*' Government,"  said  Henry,  endeavoring  not 
to  smile,  ''neither  desires  nor  dares  to  interfere  in 
such  matters.  There  must  be  murder;  and  govern- 
ment cares  not  how  much." 

The  ladies  stared.  He  laughed,  and  added: 
''  Come,  shall  I  make  you  understand  each  other,  or 
leave  you  to  puzzle  out  an  explanation  as  you 
can?  No;  I  will  be  noble  -  I  will  prove  myself  a 
man,  no  less  by  the  generosity  of  my  soul  "than  the 
clearness  of  my  head.  I  have  no  patience  with 
such  of  my  sex  as  disdain  to  let  themselves  some- 
times down  to  the  comprehension  of  3'ours.  Per- 
haps the  abilities  of  women  are  neither  sound  nor 
acute,   neither  vigorous   nor  keen.     Perhaps  they 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  135 

may  want  observation,  discernment,  judgment,  fire, 
genius,  and  wit-." 

*'Miss  Morland,  do  not  mind  what  he  says;  but 
have  the  goodness  to  satisfy  me  as  to  this  dreadful 
riot." 

'^Eiot!  what  riot?" 

*'  My  dear  Eleanor,  the  riot  is  only  in  your  own 
brain.  The  confusion  there  is  scandalous.  Miss 
Morland  has  been  talking  of  nothing  more  dread- 
ful than  a  new  publication  which  is  shortly  to 
come  out,  in  three  duodecimo  volumes,  two  hundred 
and  seventy-six  pages  in  each,  with  a  frontispiece 
to  the  first,  of  two  tombstones  and  a  lantern  — 
do  you  understand?  And  you,  Miss  Morland  — 
my  stupid  sister  has  mistaken  all  your  clearest 
expressions.  You  talked  of  expected  horrors  in 
London;  and  instead  of  instantly  conceiving,  as 
any  rational  creature  would  have  done,  that  such 
words  could  relate  only  to  a  circulating  library,  she 
immediately  pictured  to  herself  a  mob  of  three 
thousand  men  assembling  in  St.  George's  Fields; 
the  Bank  attacked,  the  Tower  threatened,  the 
streets  of  London  flowing  with  blood,  a  detachment 
of  the  Twelfth  Light  Dragoons  (the  hopes  of 
the  nation)  called  up  from  Northampton  to  quell 
the  insurgents,  and  the  gallant  Captain  Frederick 
Tilney,  in  the  moment  of  charging  at  the  head  of 
his  troop,  knocked  off  his  horse  by  a  brickbat  from 
;an  upper  window.  Forgive  her  stupidity*  The 
fears  of  the  sister  have  added  to  the  weakness  of 
the  woman;  but  she  is  by  no  means  a  simpleton  in 
:general." 
I     Catherine  looked  grave.      '*  And  now,   Henry,'' 


136  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

said  Miss  Tilney,  ^Hhat  you  have  made  us  under- 
stand each  other,  you  may  as  well  make  Miss 
Morland  understand  yourself,  —  unless  you  mean  to 
have  her  think  you  intolerably  rude  to  your  sister, 
and  a  great  brute  in  your  opinion  of  women  in 
general.  Miss  Morland  is  not  used  to  your  odd 
ways.'' 

^^I  shall  be  most  happy  to  make  her  better 
acquainted  with  them." 

* '  No  doubt ;  but  that  is  no  explanation  of  the 
present." 

*' What  am  I  to  do?'' 

*^  You  know  what  you  ought  to  do.  Clear  your 
character  handsomely  before  her.  Tell  her  that 
you  think  very  highly  of  the  understanding  of 
women." 

*'Miss  Morland,  I  think  very  highly  of  the 
understanding  of  all  the  women  in  the  world, 
especially  of  those  —  whoever  they  may  be  —  with 
whom  I  happen  to  be  in  company." 

'*  That  is  not  enough.     Be  more  serious." 

"Miss  Morland,  no  one  can  think  more  highly 
of  the  understanding  of  women  than  I  do.  In  my 
opinion,  nature  has  given  them  so  much  that  they 
never  find  it  necessary  to  use  more  than  half." 

*^We  shall  get  nothing  more  serious  from  him 
now.  Miss  Morland.  He  is  not  in  a  sober  mood. 
But  I  do  assure  you  that  he  must  be  entirely 
misunderstood,  if  he  can  ever  appear  to  say  an 
unjust  thing  of  any  woman  at  all,  or  an  unkind 
one  of  me." 

It  was  no  effort  to  Catherine  to  believe  that 
Henry  Tilney  could  never  be  wrong.     His  manner 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  137 

might  sometimes  surprise,  but  liis  meaning  must 
always  be  just;  and  what  she  did  not  understand 
she  was  almost  as  ready  to  admire  as  what  she 
did.  The  whole  walk  was  delightful;  and  though 
it  ended  too  soon,  its  conclusion  was  delightful 
too.  Her  friends  attended  her  into  the  house;  and 
Miss  Tilney,  before  they  parted,  addressing  her- 
self with  respectful  form  as  much  to  Mrs.  Allen  as 
to  Catherine,  petitioned  for  the  pleasure  of  her 
company  to  dinner  on  the  day  after  the  next.  No 
difficulty  was  made  on  Mrs.  Allen's  side,  and  the 
only  difficulty  on  Catherine's  was  in  concealing 
the  excess  of  her  pleasure. 

The  morning  had  passed  away  so  charmingly  as 
to  banish  all  her  friendship  and  natural  affection; 
for  no  thought  of  Isabella  or  James  had  crossed  her 
during  their  walk.  When  the  Tilneys  were  gone, 
she  became  amiable  again,  but  she  was  amiable  for 
some  time  to  little  effect;  Mrs.  Allen  had  no  in- 
telligence to  give  that  could  relieve  her  anxiety, 
she  had  heard  nothing  of  any  of  them.  Towards 
the  end  of  the  morning,  however,  Catherine  having 
occasion  for  some  indispensable  yard  of  riband, 
which  must  be  bought  without  a  moment's  delay, 
walked  out  into  the  town,  and  in  Bond  Street  over- 
took the  second  Miss  Thorpe,  as  she  was  loiter- 
ing towards  Edgar's  Buildings  between  two  of 
the  sweetest  girls  in  the  world,  who  had  been  her 
dear  friends  all  the  morning.  From  her  she  soon 
learned  that  the  party  to  Clifton  had  taken  place. 
**They  set  off  at  eight  this  morning,"  said  Miss 
Anne,  ''and  I  am  sure  I  do  not  envy  them  their 
drive.     I  think  you  and  I  are  very  well  off  to  be 


138        NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 

out  of  the  scrape.  It  must  be  the  dullest  thing  in 
the  world,  for  there  is  not  a  soul  at  Clifton  at 
this  time  of  year.  Belle  went  with  your  brother, 
and  John  drove  Maria." 

Catherine  spoke  the  pleasure  she  really  felt  on 
hearing  this  part  of  the  arrangement. 

*'  Oh,  yes,"  rejoined  the  other,  "Maria  is  gone. 
She  was  quite  wild  to  go.  She  thought  it  would 
be  something  very  fine.  I  cannot  say  I  admire 
hei  taste;  and,  for  my  part,  I  was  determined  from 
the  first  not  to  go,  if  the}^  pressed  me  ever  so 
much." 

Catherine,  a  little  doubtful  of  this,  could  not 
help  answering,  "  I  wish  you  could  have  gone  too. 
It  is  a  pity  you  could  not  all  go." 

"  Thank  you ;  but  it  is  quite  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence to  me.  Indeed,  I  would  not  have  gone  on  any 
account.  I  was  saying  so  to  Emily  and  Sophia, 
when  you  overtook  us." 

Catherine  was  still  unconvinced;  but  glad  that 
Anne  should  have  the  friendship  of  an  Emily  and 
a  Sophia  to  console  her,  she  bade  her  adieu  with- 
out much  uneasiness,  and  returned  home,  pleased 
that  the  party  had  not  been  prevented  by  her 
refusing  to  join  it,  and  very  heartily  wishing  that 
it  might  be  too  pleasant  to  allow  either  James  or 
Isabella  to  resent  her  resistance  any  longer. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  139 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Early  the  next  day,  a  note  from  Isabella,  speak- 
ing peace  and  tenderness  in  every  line,  and  entreat- 
ing the  immediate  presence  of  her  friend  on  a 
matter  of  the  utmost  importance,  hastened  Cath- 
erine in  the  happiest  state  of  confidence  and 
curiosity,  to  Edgar's  Buildings.  The  two  youngest 
Miss  Thorpes  were  by  themselves  in  the  parlor; 
and,  on  Anne's  quitting  it  to  call  her  sister, 
Catherine  took  the  opportunity  of  asking  the  other 
for  some  particulars  of  their  yesterday's  party. 
Maria  desired  no  greater  pleasure  than  to  speak  of 
it;  and  Catherine  immediately  learnt  that  it  had 
been  altogether  the  most  delightful  scheme  in  the 
world;  that  nobody  could  imagine  how  charming 
it  had  been,  and  that  it  had  been  more  delightful 
than  anybody  could  conceive.  Such  was  the 
information  of  the  first  five  minutes;  the  second 
unfolded  thus  much  in  detail,  —  that  they  had 
driven  directly  to  the  York  hotel,  ate  some  soup, 
and  bespoke  an  early  dinner,  walked  down  to  the 
Pump-room,  tasted  the  water,  and  laid  out  some 
shillings  in  purses  and  spars;  thence  adjouriied  to 
eat  ice  at  .a  pastry-cook's,  and  hurrying  back  to  the 
hotel,  swallowed  their  dinner  in  haste,  to  prevent 
being  in  the  dark;  and  then  had  a  delightful  drive 
back,   only  the  moon  was  not  up,  and  it  rained  a 


140  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

little,  and  Mr.  Morland's  horse  was  so  tired  he 
could  hardly  get  it  along. 

Catherine  listened  with  heartfelt  satisfaction. 
It  appeared  that  Blaize  Castle  had  never  heen 
thought  of;  and  as  for  all  the  rest,  there  was 
nothing  to  regret  for  half  an  instant.  Maria's 
intelligence  concluded  with  a  tender  effusion  of 
pity  for  her  sister  Anne,  whom  she  represented  as 
insupportably  cross,  from  being  excluded  the 
party. 

"  She  will  never  forgive  me,  I  am  sure ;  but  you 
know,  how  could  I  help  it?  John  would  have  me 
go,  for  he  vowed  he  would  not  drive  her,  because 
she  had  such  thick  ankles.  I  dare  say  she  will  not 
be  in  good  humor  again  this  month;  but  I  am 
determined  I  will  not  be  cross:  it  is  not  a  little 
matter  that  puts  me  out  of  temper." 

Isabella  now  entered  the  room  with  so  eager  a 
step,  and  a  look  of  such  happy  importance,  as  en- 
gaged all  her  friend's  notice.  Maria  was  without 
ceremony  sent  away;  and  Isabella,  embracing 
Catherine,  thus  began:  "  Yes,  my  dear  Cather- 
ine, it  is  so,  indeed;  your  penetration  has  not  de- 
ceived you.  Oh,  that  arch  eye  of  yours !  —  it  sees 
through  everything." 

Catherine  replied  only  by  a  look  of  wondering 
ignorance. 

''Nay,  my  beloved,  sweetest  friend,"  continued 
the  other,  "compose  yourself.  I  am  amazingly 
agitated,  as  you  perceive.  Let  us  sit  down  and 
talk  in  comfort.  Well,  and  so  you  guessed  it  the 
moment  you  had  my  note?  —  Sly  creature!  —  Oh, 
my  dear  Catherine,  you  alone  who  know  my  heart 


! 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  141 

can  judge  of  my  present  happiness.  Your  brother 
is  the  most  charming  of  men.  I  only  wish  I  were 
more  worthy  of  him.  But  what  will  your  excellent 
father  and  mother  say?  Oh,  heavens!  when  I 
think  of  them,    I  am  so   agitated!" 

Catherine's  understanding  began  to  awake:  an 
idea  of  the  truth  suddenly  darted  into  her  mind; 
and,  with  the  natural  blush  of  so  new  an  emotion, 
she  cried  out,  '^ Good  heaven!  —  my  dear  Isabella, 
what  do  you  mean?  Can  you  —  can  you  really  be 
in  love  with  James?  " 

This  bold  surmise,  however,  she  soon  learnt 
comprehended  but  half  the  fact.  The  anxious 
affection  which  she  was  accused  of  having  contin- 
ually watched  in  Isabella's  every  look  and  action, 
had,  in  the  course  of  their  yesterday's  party,  re- 
ceived the  delightful  confession  of  an  equal  love. 
Her  heart  and  faith  were  alike  engaged  to  James. 
Never  had  Catherine  listened  to  anything  so  full 
of  interest,  wonder,  and  joy.  Her  brother  and  her 
friend  engaged!  New  to  such  circumstances,  the 
importance  of  it  appeared  unspeakably  great,  and 
she  contemplated  it  as  one  of  those  grand  events, 
of  which  the  ordinary  course  of  life  can  hardly 
afford  a  return.  The  strength  of  her  feelings  she 
could  not  express;  the  nature  of  them,  however, 
contented  her  friend.  The  happiness  of  having 
such  a  sister  was  their  first  effusion,  and  the  fair 
ladies  mingled  in  embraces  and  tears  of  joy. 

Delighting,  however,  as  Catherine  sincerely  did, 
in  the  prospect  of  the  connection,  it  must  be  ac- 
knowledged that  Isabella  far  surpassed  her  in 
tender  anticipations.      "You  will  be  so  infinitely 


142  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

dearer  to  me,  my  Catherine,  than  either  Anne  or 
Maria :  I  feel  that  I  shall  be  so  much  more  attached 
to  my  dear  Morland's  family  than  to  my  own." 

This  was  a  pitch  of  friendship  beyond  Catherine. 

*^  You  are  so  like  your  dear  brother,"  continued 
Isabella,  '^that  I  quite  doted  on  you  the  first 
moment  I  saw  you.  But  so  it  always  is  with  me; 
the  first  moment  settles  everything.  The  very 
first  day  that  Morland  came  to  us  last  Christmas 
—  the  ver^^  first  moment  I  beheld  him  —  my 
heart  was  irrecoverably  gone.  I  remember  I  wore 
my  yellow  gown,  with  my  hair  done  up  in  braids; 
and  when  I  came  into  the  drawing-room,  and  John 
introduced  him,  I  thought  I  never  saw  anybody  so 
handsome  before.'' 

Here  Catherine  secretly  acknowledged  the  power 
of  love;  for,  though  exceedingly  fond  of  her 
brother,  and  partial  to  all  his  endowments,  she 
had  never  in  her  life  thought  him  handsome. 

^^I  remember,  too,*  Miss  Andrews  drank  tea 
with  us  that  evening,  and  wore  her  puce-colored 
sarsenet;  and  she  looked  so  heavenly  that  I 
thought  yonr  brother  must  certainly  fall  in  love 
with  her;  I  could  not  sleep  a  wink  all  night  for 
thinking  of  it.  Oh,  Catherine,  the  many  sleepless 
nights  I  have  had  on  your  brother's  account!  I 
would  not  have  you  suffer  half  what  I  have  done ! 
I  am  grown  wretchedly  thin,  I  know;  but  I  wdll 
not  pain  you  by  describing  my  anxiety;  you  have 
seen  enough  of  it.  1  feel  that  I  have  betrayed 
myself  perpetually;  —  so  unguarded  in  speaking 
of  my  partiality  for  the  church !  —  But  my  secret  I 
was  always  sure  would  be  safe  with  you." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  143 

Catherine  felt  that  nothing  could  have  been 
safer;  but  ashamed  of  an  ignorance  little  expected, 
she  dared  no  longer  contest  the  point,  nor  refuse 
to  have  been  as  full  of  arch  penetration  and  affec- 
tionate sympathy  as  Isabella  chose  to  consider  her. 
Her  brother,  she  found,  was  preparing  to  set  off 
with  all  speed  to  Eullerton,  to  make  known  his 
situation  and  ask  consent ;  and  here  was  a  source 
of  some  real  agitation  to  the  mind  of  Isabella. 
Catherine  endeavored  to  persuade  her,  as  she  was 
herself  persuaded,  that  her  father  and  mother 
would  never  oppose  their  son's  wishes.  ''It  is 
impossible,"  said  she,  ''for  parents  to  be  more 
kind,  or  more  desirous  of  their  children's  hap- 
piness; I  have  no  doubt  of  their  consenting  im- 
mediately." 

"Morland  says  exactly  the  same, "  replied  Isa- 
bella; "and yet  I  dare  not  expect  it:  my  fortune 
will  be  so  small;  they  never  can  consent  to  it. 
Your  brother,   who  might  marry  anybody!" 

Here  Catherine  again  discerned  the  force  of 
love. 

"Indeed,  Isabella,  you  are  too  humble.  The 
difference  of  fortune  can  be  nothing  to  signify." 

"  Oh,  my  sweet  Catherine,  in  your  generous 
heart  I  know  it  would  signify  nothing;  but  we 
must  not  expect  such  disinterestedness  in  many. 
As  for  myself,  I  am  sure  I  only  wish  our  situa- 
tions were  reversed.  Had  I  the  command  of  mil- 
lions, were  I  mistress  of  the  whole  world,  your 
brother  would  be  my  only  choice." 

This  charming  sentiment,  recommended  as 
much  by  sense  as  novelty,  gave  Catherine  a  most 


144  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

pleasing  remembrance  of  all  the  lieroines  of  her 
acquaintance;  and  she  thought  her  friend  never 
looked  more  lovely  than  in  uttering  the  grard 
idea.  —  ^^I  am  sure  they  will  consent,"  was  her 
frequent  declaration;  ^'I  am  sure  they  will  be 
delighted  with  you." 

^'For  my  own  part,"  said  Isabella,  ''my  wishes 
are  so  moderate  that  the  smallest  income  in  nature 
would  be  enough  for  me.  Where  people  are  really 
attached,  poverty  itself  is  wealth:  grandeur  I  de- 
test :  I  would  not  settle  in  London  for  the  universe. 
A  cottage  in  some  retired  village  would  be  ecs- 
tasy. There  are  some  charming  little  villas  about 
Eichmond." 

''Richmond!"  cried  Catherine.  ''You  must 
settle  near  Fullerton.     You  must  be  near  us." 

"I  am  sure  I  shall  be  miserable  if  we  do  not. 
If  I  can  but  be  near  you,  I  shall  be  satisfied.  But 
this  is  idle  talking;  I  will  not  allow  myself  to 
think  of  such  things  till  we  have  your  father's 
answer.  Morland  says  that  by  sending  it  to-night 
to  Salisbury,  we  may  have  it  to-morrow.  To- 
morrow? I  know  I  shall  never  have  courage  to 
open  the  letter.  I  know  it  will  be  the  death 
of  me." 

A  reverie  succeeded  this  conviction;  and  when 
Isabella  spoke  again,  it  wa;s  to  resolve  on  the 
quality  of  her  wedding-gown. 

Their  conference  was  put  an  end  to  by  the  anx- 
ious young  lover  himself,  who  came  to  breathe  his 
parting  sigh  before  he  set  off  for  Wiltshire.  Cath- 
erine wished  to  congratulate  him,  but  knew  not 
what  to  say,  and  her  eloquence  was  only  in  her 


r 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  145 

eyes.     From   them,    however,    the    eight  parts    of 
speech   shone  out   most    expressively,   and    James 
could  combine  them  with  ease.     Impatient  for  the 
realization  of  all  that  he  hoped  at  home,  his  adieus 
were   not    long;    and  they  would    have    been   yet 
shorter,  had  he  not  been  frequently  detained  by 
the  urgent  entreaties  of  his  fair  one  that  he  would 
go.     Twice  was  he  called  almost  from  the  door  by 
her  eagerness  to  have  him  gone.      ^'  Indeed,  Mor- 
I  land,  I  must  drive  you  away.     Consider  how  far 
I  you  have  to    ride.     I  cannot  bear  to  see  you   lin- 
I  ger  so.     Eor  Heaven's  sake,  waste  no  more  time. 
[There,    go,    go, — I   insist    on   it." 
j       The  two  friends,  with  hearts  now  more  united 
,  than  ever,  were  inseparable  for  the  day;    and  in 
schemes  of  sisterly  happiness  the  hours  flew  along. 
Mrs.    Thorpe   and  her  son,    who  were  acquainted 
with   everything,  and  who    seemed  only  to   want 
Mr.   Morland's  consent  to  consider  Isabella's   en- 
gagement as  the  most  fortunate  circumstance  ima- 
ginable for  their  family,  were  allowed  to  join  their 
counsels,  and  add  their  quota  of  significant  looks 
and  mysterious  expressions,  to  fill  up  the  measure 
of   curiosity   to    be    raised    in    the    unprivileged 
younger  sisters.     To  Catherine's  simple  feelings, 
this   odd   sort   of  reserve    seemed   neither   kindly 
meant  nor  consistently  supported;  and  its  unkind- 
ness  she  would  hardly  save  forborne  pointing  out, 
had  its  inconsistency  been  less  their  friend;   but 
Anne  and  Maria  soon  set  her  heart  at  ease  by  the 
sagacity  of  their  ^'I  know  what;  "  and  the  even- 
ing  was  spent  in  a  sort  of  war  of  wit,  a  display  of 
family  ingenuity,  —  on  one  side  in  the  mystery  of 
10 


146  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

an  affected  secret,  on  the  other  of  undefined  dis- 
covery,  all  equally  acute. 

Catherine  was  with  her  friend  again  the  next 
day,  endeavoring  to  support  her  spirits,  and  while 
away  the  many  tedious  hours  before  the  delivery 
of  the  letters,  — -  a  needful  exertion ;  for  as  the 
time  of  reasonable  expectation  drew  near,  Isabella 
became  more  and  more  desponding,  and  before  the 
letter  arrived,  had  worked  herself  into  a  state  of 
real  distress.  But  when  it  did  come,  where  could 
distress  be  found?  ^'1  have  had  no  difficulty  in 
gaining  the  consent  of  my  kind  parents,  and  am 
promised  that  everything  in  their  power  shall  bo 
done  to  forward  my  happiness,"  were  the  first 
three  lines;  and  in  one  moment  all  was  joyful  se- 
curity. The  brightest  glow  was  instantly  spread 
over  Isabella's  features, — all  care  and  anxiety 
seemed  removed,  her  spirits  became  almost  too 
high  for  control,  and  she  called  herself  without 
scruple  the  liappiest  of  mortals. 

Mrs.  Thorpe,  with  tears  of  joy,  embraced  her 
daughter,  her  son,  her  visitor,  and  could  have  em- 
braced half  the  inhabitants  of  Bath  with  satisfac- 
tion. Her  heart  was  overflowing  with  tenderness. 
It  was  ^Mear  John,"  and  'Mear  Catherine, "  at 
every  word;  ''dear  Anne  and  dear  Maria"  must 
immediately  be  made  sharers  in  their  felicity;  and 
two  "dears  "  at  once  before  the  name  of  Isabella 
were  not  more  than  that  beloved  child  had  now 
well  earned.  John  himself  was  no  skulker  in  joy. 
He  not  only  bestowed  on  Mr.  Morland  the  high 
commendation  of  being  one  of  the  finest  fellows  in 
the  world,  but  swore  off  many  sentences  in  his 
praise. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  147 

The  letter  whence  sprang  all  this  felicity  was 
short,  containing  little  more  than  this  assurance 
of  success ;  and  every  particular  was  deferred  till 
James  could  write  again.  But  for  particulars 
Isabella  could  well  afford  to  wait.  The  needful 
was  comprised  in  Mr.  Morland's  promise:  his 
honor  was  pledged  to  make  everything  easy;  and 
by  what  means  their  income  was  to  be  formed, 
whether  landed  property  were  to  be  resigned,  or 
funded  money  made  over,  was  a  matter  in  which 
her  disinterested  spirit  took  no  concern.  She 
knew  enough  to  feel  secure  of  an  honorable  and 
speedy  establishment,  aud  her  imagination  took  a 
rapid  flight  over  its  attendant  felicities.  She  saw 
herself,  at  the  end  of  a  few  weeks,  the  gaze  and 
admiration  of  every  new  acquaintance  at  Fuller- 
ton,  the  envy  of  every  valued  old  friend  in  Put- 
ney, with  a  carriage  at  her  command,  a  new  name 
on  her  tickets,  and  a  brilliant  exhibition  of  hoop 
rings  on  her  finger. 

'WHien  the  contents  of  the  letter  were  as- 
certained, John  Thorpe,  who  had  only  waited  its 
arrival  to  begin  his  journey  to  London,  prepared 
to  set  off.  ''Well,  Miss  Morland,''  said  he,  on 
finding  her  alone  in  the  parlor,  ''I  am  come  to 
bid  you  good-by."  Catherine  wished  him  a  good 
journey.  Without  appearing  to  hear  her,  he 
walked  to  the  window,  fidgeted  about,  hummed  a 
tune,  and  seemed  wholly  self-occupied. 

''Shall  not  you  be  late  at  Devizes?"  said 
Catherine.  He  made  no  answer;  but  after  a  min- 
ute's silence  burst  out  with,  "A  famous  good 
thing  this  marrying   scheme,   upon  my  soul!     A 


148  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

clever  fancy  of  Morland's  and  Belle's.  What  do 
you  think  of  it,  Miss  Morland?  I  say  it  is  no  bad 
notion. '^ 

"I  am  sure  I  think  it  a  very  good  one." 

*'Do  you?  —  that  's  honest,  by  heavens!  I  am 
glad  you  are  no  enemy  to  matrimony,  however. 
Did  you  ever  hear  the  old  song,  *'  Going  to  one 
wedding  brings  on  another''?  I  say,  you  will 
come  to  Belle's  wedding,   I  hope." 

*'Yes;  I  have  promised  your  sister  to  be  with 
her,   if  possible." 

"And  then,  you  know,"  twisting  himself 
about,  and  forcing  a  foolish  laugh,  —  '^  I  say,  then, 
you  know,  we  may  try  the  truth  of  this  same  old 
song." 

*^  May  we?  —  but  I  never  sing.  Well,  I  wish 
you  a  good  journey.  I  dine  with  Miss  Tilney  to- 
day,  and  must  now  be  going  home." 

"  Nay,  but  there  is  no  such  confounded  hurry. 
Who  knows  when  we  may  be  together  again? 
Kot  but  that  I  shall  be  down  again  by  the  end  of 
a  fortnight,  and  a  devilish  long  fortnight  it  will 
appear  to  me." 

"  Then  why  do  you  stay  away  so  long?  *"  replied 
Catherine,  finding  that  he  waited  for  an  answer. 

"That  is  kind  of  you,  however, — kind  and 
good-natured.  I  shall  not  forget  it  in  a  hurry. 
But  you  have  more  good-nature  and  all  that  than 
anybody  living,  I  believe.  A  monstrous  deal  of 
good-nature,  —  and  it  is  not  only  good-nature,  but 
you  have  so  much,  so  much  of  everything;  and  then 
you  have  such  —  Upon  my  soul,  I  do  not  know 
anybody  like  you." 


N0R7ILVNGER  ABBEY.  149 

*^0h  dear,  there  are  a  great  manj  people  like 
me,  I  dare  say,  only  a  great  deal  1?  t;ter.  Good 
morning  to  you." 

''But  I  say,  Miss  Morland,  I  sli-^ll  come  and 
pay  my  respects  at  Fullerton  before  it  is  long,  if 
not  disagreeable." 

"Pray  do,  — my  father  and  mother  will  be  very 
glad  to  see  you." 

"And  I  hope, — I  hope,  Miss  Morland,  yoic, 
will  not  be  sorry  to  see  me." 

"Oh  dear,  not  at  all.  There  are  very  few 
people  I  am  sorry  to  see.  Company  h  always 
cheerful." 

"That  is  just  my  way  of  thinking.  Give  me 
but  a  little  cheerful  company,  let  me  only  have 
the  company  of  the  people  I  love,  let  me  only  be 
where  I  like  and  with  whom  I  like,  and  the  devil 
take  the  rest,  say  I.  And  I  am  heartily  glad  to 
hear  you  say  the  same.  But  I  have  a  notion.  Miss 
Morland,  you  and  I  think  pretty  much  alike  upon 
most  matters." 

"Perhaps  we  may;  but  it  is  more  than  I  ever 
thought  of.  And  as  to  most  matters,  to  say  the 
truth,  there  are  not  many  that  I  know  my  own 
mind  about." 

"  By  Jove,  no  more  do  I.  It  is  not  my  way  to 
bother  my  brains  with  what  does  not  concern  me. 
My  notion  of  things  is  simple  enough.  Let  me 
only  have  the  girl  I  like,  say  I,  with  a  comfort- 
able house  over  mj^  head,  and  what  care  I  for  all 
the  rest?  Fortune  is  nothing.  I  am  sure  of  a 
good  income  of  my  own;  and  if  she  had  not  a 
penny,   why,  so  much  the  better." 


150  NORTHANGEK  ArBEY. 

''Very  true.  I  think  like  you  there.  If  there 
is  a  good  fortune  on  one  side,  there  can  be  no 
occasion  for  any  on  the  other.  No  matter  which 
has  it,  so  that  there  is  enough.  I  hate  the  idea  of 
one  great  fortune  looking  out  for  another.  And 
to  marry  for  money,  I  think  the  wickedest  thing 
in  existence.  Good  day.  We  shall  be  very  glad 
to  see  you  at  FuUerton,  whenever  it  is  conven- 
ient.'' And  away  she  went.  It  was  not  in  the 
power  of  all  his  gallantry  to  detain  her  longer. 
With  such  news  to  communicate,  and  such  a  visit 
to  prepare  for,  her  departure  was  not  to  be  delayed 
by  anything  in  his  nature  to  urge;  and  she 
hurried  away,  leaving  him  to  the  undivided  con- 
sciousness of  his  own  happy  address  and  her 
explicit  encouragement. 

The  agitation  which  she  had  herself  experi- 
enced on  first  learning  her  brother's  engagement 
made  her  expect  to  raise  no  inconsiderable  emotion 
in  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allen,  by  the  communication  of 
the  wonderful  event.  How  great  was  her  disap- 
pointment! The  important  affair,  which  many 
words  of  preparation  ushered  in,  had  been  foreseen 
by  them  both  ever  since  her  brother's  arrival;  and 
all  that  the}'-  felt  on  the  occasion  was  compre- 
hended in  a  wish  for  the  young  people's  happi- 
ness, with  a  remark,  on  the  gentleman's  side,  in 
favor  of  Isabella's  beauty,  and  on  the  lady's,  of 
her  great  good  luck.  It  was  to  Catherine  the 
most  surprising  insensibility.  The  disclosure, 
however,  of  the  great  secret  of  James's  going  to 
Fullerton  the  day  before  did  raise  some  emotion  in 
Mrs.    Allen.     She  could   not  listen  to  that  with 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  151 

perfect  calmness;  but  repeatedly  regretted  the 
necessity  of  its  concealment,  wished  she  could 
have  known  his  intention,  wished  she  could  have 
seen  him  before  he  went,  as  she  should  certainly 
have  troubled  him  with  her  best  regards  to  his 
father  and  mother,  and  her  kind  compliments  to 
pjl  the  SkinnerSc 


152  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

Catherine'^s  expectations  of  pleasure  from  her  visit 
in  Milsom  Street  were  so  very  high  that  disap- 
pointment was  inevitable;  and  accordingly,  though 
she  was  most  politely  received  by  General  Tilney, 
and  kindly  welcomed  by  his  daughter,  — though 
Henry  was  at  home,  and  no  one  else  of  the  party, — • 
she  found  on  her  return,  without  spending  many 
hours  in  the  examination  of  her  feelings,  that  she 
had  gone  to  her  appointment  preparing  for  happi- 
ness which  it  had  not  afforded.  Instead  of  finding 
herself  improved  in  acquaintance  with  Miss  Til- 
ney, from  the  intercourse  of  the  day,  she  seemed 
hardly  so  intimate  with  her  as  before.  Instead 
of  seeing  Henry  Tilney  to  greater  advantage  than 
ever,  in  the  ease  of  a  family  party^  he  had  never 
said  so  little,  nor  been  so  little  agreeable;  and  in 
spite  of  their  father's  great  civilities  to  her,  —in 
spite  of  his  thanks,  invitations,  and  compliments, — , 
it  had  been  a  release  to  get  away  from  him.  It 
puzzled  her  to  account  for  all  this.  It  could  not 
be  General  Tilney 's  fault.  That  he  was  perfectly 
agreeable  and  good-natured,  and  altogether  a  very 
charming  man,  did  not  admit  of  a  doubt,  for  he 
was  tall  and  handsome,  and  Henry^s  father.  He 
could  not  be  accountable  for  his  children's  want 
of  spirits,  or  for  her  want  of  enjoyment  in  his  com- 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.         153 

paiiy.  The  former,  she  hoped  at  last,  might  have 
been  accidental,  and  the  latter  she  could  only  at- 
tribute to  her  own  stupidity.  Isabella,  on  hearing 
the  particulars  of  the  visit,  gave  a  different  expla- 
nation. ''It  was  all  pride,  pride;  insufferable 
haughtiness  and  pride!  She  had  long  suspected 
the  family  to  be  very  high,  and  this  made  it  cer- 
tain. Such  insolence  of  behavior  as  Miss  Tilney's 
she  had  never  heard  of  in  her  life !  Not  to  do  the 
honors  of  her  house  with  common  good  breeding! 
To  behave  to  her  guest  with  such  superciliousness! 
Hardly  even  to  speak  to  her!  " 

"But  it  was  not  so  bad  as  that,  Isabella;  there 
was  no  superciliousness;  she  was  very  civil." 

"  Oh,  don't  defend  her!  And  then  the  brother, 
he  who  had  appeared  so  attached  to  youi  Good 
heavens!  well,  some  people's  feelings  are  incom- 
prehensible. And  so  he  hardly  looked  once  at  you 
the  whole  day?" 

**I  do  not  say  so;  but  he  did  not  seem  in  good 
spirits." 

"  How  contemptible!  Of  all  things  in  the  world 
inconstancy  is  my  aversion.  Let  me  entreat  you 
never  to  think  of  him  again,  my  dear  Catherine; 
indeed  he  is  unworthy  of  you." 

''Unworthy!  I  do  not  suppose  he  ever  thinks 
of  me." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  say;  he  never  thinks  of 
you.  Such  fickleness !  Oh,  how  different  to  your 
brother  and  to  mine!  I  really  believe  John  has 
the  most  constant  heart. " 

"But  as  for  General  Tilney,  I  assure  you  it 
would  be  impossible  for  anybody  to   behave  to  me 


154  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

with  greater  civilit}^  and  attention;  it  seemed  to  be 
his  only  care  to  entertain  and  make  me  happy." 

"  Oh,  I  know  no  harm  of  him;  I  do  not  suspect 
him  of  pride.  I  believe  he  is  a  very  gentleman- 
like man.  John  thinks  very  well  of  him;  and 
John's  judgment  —  " 

*' Well,  I  shall  see  how  thej'^  behave  to  me  this 
evening;  we  shall  meet  them  at  the  rooms." 

<^  And  must  I  go?" 

^'Donot  you  intend  it?  I  thought  it  was  all 
settled." 

^'Nay,  since  you  make  such  a  point  of  it,  T  can 
refuse  you  nothing.  But  do  not  insist  upon  my 
being  very  agreeable,  for  my  heart,  you  know,  will 
be  some  forty  miles  off.  And  as  for  dancing,  do 
not  mention  it,  I  beg;  that  is  quite  out  of  the 
question.  Charles  Hodges  will  plague  me  to 
death,  I  dare  say;  but  I  shall  cut  him  very  short. 
Ten  to  one  but  he  guesses  the  reason,  and  that  is 
exactly  what  I  want  to  avoid;  so  I  shall  insist  on 
his  keeping  his  conjecture  to  himself." 

Isabella's  opinion  of  the  Tilneys  did  not  influ- 
ence her  friend:  she  was  sure  there  had  been  no 
insolence  in  the  manners  of  either  brother  or  sister; 
and  she  did  not  credit  there  being  any  pride  in 
their  hearts.  The  evening  rewarded  her  confidence ; 
she  was  met  by  one  with  the  same  kindness,  and 
by  the  other  with  the  same  attention,  as  hereto- 
fore; Miss  Tilney  took  pains  to  be  near  her,  and 
Henry  asked  her  to  dance.     , 

Having  heard  the  day  before  in  Milsom  Street 
that  their  elder  brother,  Captafn  Tilney,  was  ex- 
pected almost  every  hour,  she  was  at  no  loss^  for 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  155 

the  name  of  a  very  fashionable-looking,  handsome 
young  man,  whom  she  had  never  seen  before,  and 
who  now  evidently  belonged  to  their  party.  She 
looked  at  him  with  great  admiration;  and  even 
supposed  it  possible  that  some  people  might  think 
him  handsomer  than  his  brother,  though,  in  her 
eyes,  his  air  was  more  assuming,  and  his  counte- 
nance less  prepossessing.  His  taste  and  manners 
were,  beyond  a  doubt,  decidedly  inferior;  for, 
within  her  hearing,  he  not  only  protested  against 
every  thought  of  dancing  himself,  but  even  laughed 
openly  at  Henry  for  finding  it  possible.  From 
the  latter  circumstance  it  may  be  presumed  that 
whatever  might  be  our  heroine's  opinion  of  him, 
his  admiration  of  her  was  not  of  a  very  dangerous 
kind;  not  likely  to  produce  animosities  between 
the  brothers,  nor  persecutions  to  the  lady.  He 
cannot  be  the  instigator  of  the  three  villains  in 
horsemen's  great-coats,  by  whom  she  will  hereafter 
be  forced  into  a  travelling-chaise  and  four,  which 
will  drive  off  with  incredible  speed.  Catherine, 
meanwhile,  undisturbed  by  presentiments  of  such 
an  evil,  or  of  any  evil  at  all  except  that  of  having 
but  a  short  set  to  dance  down,  enjoyed  her  usual 
happiness  with  Henry  Tilney,  listening  with 
sparkling  eyes  to  everything  he  said;  and  in  find- 
ing him  irresistible,  becoming  so  herself. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  dance  Captain  Tilney 
came  towards  them  again,  and,  much  to  Cath- 
erine's dissatisfaction,  pulled  his  brother  away. 
They  retired  whispering  together;  and  though  her 
delicate  sensibility  did  not  take  immediate  alarm, 
and  lay  it  down  as  fact  that  Captain  Tilney  must 


156  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

have  heard  some  malevolent  misrepresentation  of 
her,  which  he  now  hastened  to  communicate  to  his 
brother  in  the  hope  of  separating  them  forever, 
she  could  not  have  her  partner  conveyed  from  her 
sight  without  very  uneasy  sensations.  Her  sus- 
pense was  of  full  five  minutes'  duration;  and  she 
was  beginning  to  think  it  a  very  long  quarter  of 
an  hour,  when  they  both  returned;  and  an  expla- 
nation was  given,  by  Henry's  requesting  to  know 
if  she  thought  her  friend  Miss  Thorpe  would 
have  any  objection  to  dancing,  as  his  brother  would 
be  most  happy  to  be  introduced  to  her.  Cather- 
ine, without  hesitation,  replied  that  she  was  very 
sure  Miss  Thorpe  did  not  mean  to  dance  at  all. 
The  cruel  reply  was  passed  on  to  the  other,  and  he 
immediately  walked  away. 

^*  Your  brother  will  not  mind  it,  I  know,"  said 
she,  "because  I  heard  him  say  before  that  he  hated 
dancing;  but  it  was  very  good-natured  in  him  to 
think  of  it.  I  suppose  he  saw  Isabella  sitting 
down,  and  fancied  she  might  wish  for  a  partner; 
but  he  is  quite  mistaken,  for  she  would  not  dance 
upon  any  account  in  the  world." 

Henry  smiled,  and  said,  ''How  very  little 
trouble  it  can  give  you  to  understand  the  motive 
of  other  people's  actions!" 

''Why?     What  do  you  mean?  " 

"With  you  it  is  not.  How  is  such  a  one  likely 
to  be  influenced;  what  is  the  inducement  most 
likely  to  act  upon  such  a  person's  feelings,  age, 
situation,  and  probable  habits  of  life  considered?  — 
but.  How  should  I  be  influenced;  what  would  be 
my  inducement  in  acting  so  and  so?  " 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  157 

*'  I  do  not  understand  you.'' 

'^Then  we  are  on  very  unequal   terms,  for  I  un- 
derstand you  perfectly  well." 

'^Me?  Yes;  I  cannot  speak  well  enough  to  be 
unintelligible." 

''Bravo! — an  excellent  satire  on  modern  lan- 
guage." 

''  But  pray  tell  me  what  you  mean." 
''  Shall  I,  indeed  ?    Do  you  really  desire  it?    But 
you  are  not  aware  of  the  consequences;  it  will  in- 
volve 3^ou  in  a  very  cruel  embarrassment,  and  cer- 
tainly bring  on  a  disagreement  between  us." 

*^I^o,  no;  it  shall  not  do  either.  I  am  not 
afraid." 

•'  Well,  then,  I  only  meant  that  your  attributing 
my  brother's  wish  of  dancing  with  Miss  Thorpe  to 
good-nature  alone,  convinced  me  of  your  being  su- 
perior in  good-nature  yourself  to  all  the  rest  of  the 
world." 

Catherine  blushed  and  disclaimed,  and  the  gen- 
tleman's predictions  were  verified.     There  was  a 
something,  however,  in  his  words  which  repaid  her 
for  the  pain  of  confusion;  and  that  something  oc- 
I  cu}3ied  her  mind  so  much  that  she  drew  back  for 
;  some  time,  forgetting  to  speak  or  to  listen,  and  al- 
jmost  forgetting  where  she  was;  till,  roused  by  the 
i  voice  of  Isabella,  she  looked  up,  and  saw  her  with 
Captain    Tilney   preparing   to    give   them    hands 
across. 

Isabella  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  smiled,  the 
only  explanation  of  this  extraordinary  change 
which  could  at  that  time  be  given;  but  as  it  w^as 
not  quite  enough  for  Catherine's   comprehension, 


158  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

she  spoke  her  astonishment  in  very  plain  terms  to 
her  partner. 

''I  cannot  think  how  it  could  happen!  Isabella 
was  so  determined  not  to  dance." 

"And  did  Isabella  never  change  her  mind 
before?'' 

"  Oh !  but,  because  —  And  your  brother !  After 
what  you  told  him  from  me,  how  could  he  think  of 
going  to  ask  her?  " 

"I  cannot  take  surprise  to  myself  on  that  head. 
You  bid  me  be  surprised  on  your  friend's  account, 
and  therefore  I  am;  but  as  for  my  brother,  his 
conduct  in  the  business,  I  must  own,  has  been  no 
more  than  I  believed  him  perfectly  equal  to.  The 
fairness  of  your  friend  was  an  open  attraction;  her 
firmness,  you  know,  could  only  be  understood  by 
yourself." 

*^You  are  laughing;  but,  I  assure  you,  Isabella 
is  very  firm  in  general." 

"It  is  as  much  as  should  be  said  of  any  one.  To 
be  always  firm  must  be  to  be  often  obstinate. 
When  properly  to  relax  is  the  trial  of  judgment; 
and  without  reference  to  my  brother,  I  really  think 
Miss  Thorpe  has  by  no  means  chosen  ill  in  fixing 
on  the  present  hour." 

The  friends  were  not  able  to  get  together  for  any 
confidential  discourse  till  all  the  dancing  was  over ; 
but  then,  as  they  walked  about  the  room  arm  in 
arm,  Isabella  thus  explained  herself:  "  I  do  not 
wonder  at  your  surprise ;  and  I  am  really  fatigued 
to  death.  He  is  such  a  rattle  !  —  Amusing  enough, 
if  my  mind  had  been  disengaged;  but  I  would 
have  given  the  world  to  sit  still." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY,  159 

<<Then  why  did  not  you?  " 

^'  Oh,  my  dear,  it  would  have  looked  so  particu- 
lar; and  you  know  how  I  abhor  doing  that.  I 
refused  him  as  long  as  I  possibly  could,  but  he 
would  take  no  denial.  You  have  no  idea  how  he 
pressed  me.  I  begged  him  to  excuse  me,  and  get 
some  other  partner  —  but  no^  not  he ;  after  aspiring 
to  my  hand,  there  was  nobody  else  in  the  room  he 
could  bear  to  think  of;  and  it  was  not  that  he 
wanted  merely  to  dance,  he  wanted  to  be  with  me. 
i  Oh,  such  nonsense!  I  told  him  he  had  taken  a 
I  very  unlikely  way  to  prevail  upon  me;  for,  of  all 
I  things  in  the  world,  I  hated  fine  speeches  and 
compliments ;  and  so  —  and  so  then  I  found  there 
would  be  no  peace  if  I  did  not  stand  up.  Besides, 
I  thought  Mrs.  Hughes,  who  introduced  him, 
might  take  it  ill  if  I  did  not;  and  your  dear 
brother,  I  am  sure  he  would  have  been  miserable 
if  I  had  sat  down  the  whole  evening.  I  am  so 
glad  it  is  over!  My  spirits  are  quite  jaded  with 
listening  to  his  nonsense ;  and  then,  being  such  a 
smart  young  fellow,  I  saw  every  eye  was  upon  us." 
^'He  is  very  handsome,  indeed." 
'^Handsome!  Yes,  I  suppose  he  may.  I  dare 
say  people  would  admire  him  in  general ;  but  he  is 
not  at  all  in  my  style  of  beauty.  I  hate  a  florid 
complexion  and  dark  eyes  in  a  man.  However,  he 
is  very  well.  Amazingly  conceited,  I  am  sure.  I 
took  him  down  several  times,  you  know,  in  my 
way." 

When  the  young  ladies  next  met,  they  had  a  far 
;  more  interesting  subject  to  discuss.  James  Mor- 
.  land^s   second  letter  was   then  received,    and  the 


160  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

kind  intentions  of  his  father  fully  explained.  A 
living,  of  which  Mr.  Morland  was  himself  patron 
and  incumbent,  of  about  four  hundred  pounds 
yearly  value,  was  to  be  resigned  to  his.  son  as  soon 
as  he  should  be  old  enough  to  take  it;  no  trifling 
deduction  from  the  family  income,  no  niggardly 
assignment  to  one  of  ten  children.  An  estate  of 
at  least  equal  value,  moreover,  was  assured  as  his 
future  inheritance. 

James  expressed  himself  on  the  occasion  with 
becoming  gratitude;  and  the  necessity  of  waiting 
between  two  and-ilttiree  years  before  they  could 
marry  being,  however  unwelcome,  no  more  than  he 
had  expected,  was  borne  by  him  without  discon- 
tent. Catherine,  whose  expectations  had  been  as 
unfixed  as  her  ideas  *of  her  father's  income,  and 
whose  judgment  was  now  entirely  led  by  her 
brother,  felt  equally  well  satisfied,  and  heartily 
congratulated  Isabella  on  having  everything  so 
pleasantly  settled. 

''It  is  very  charming,  indeed,''  said  Isabella, 
with  a  grave  face. 

''Mr.  Morland  has  behaved  vastly  handsome, 
indeed,"  said  the  gentle  Mrs.  Thorpe,  looking 
anxiously  at  her  daughter.  "  I  only  wish  I  could 
do  as  much.  One  could  not  expect  more  from  him, 
you  know.  If  he  finds  he  can  do  more,  by  and  by, 
I  dare  say  he  will;  for  I  am  sure  he  must  be  an 
excellent,  good-hearted  man.  Four  hundred  is  but 
a  small  income  to  begin  on,  indeed;  but  your 
wishes,  my  dear  Isabella,  are  so  moderate,  you  do 
not  consider  how  little  you  ever  want,  ray  dear." 

*'  It  is  not  on  my  own  account  I  wish  for  more; 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  161 

but  I  cannot  bear  to  be  the  means  of  injuring  my 
dear  Morland,  making  him  sit  down  upon  an  in- 
come hardly  enough  to  find  one  in  the  common 
necessaries  of  life.  For  myself,  it  is  nothing;  I 
never  think  of  myself." 

"I  know  you  never  do,  my  dear;  and  you  will 
always  find  your  reward  in  the  affection  it  makes 
everybody  feel  for  you.  There  never  was  a  young 
woman  so  beloved  as  you  are  by  everj^body  that 
knows  you;  and  I  dare  say  when  Mr.  Morland  sees 
you,  ray  dear  child —  But  do  not  let  us  distress 
our  dear  Catherine  by  talking  (s^^uch  things.  Mr. 
Morland  has  behaved  so  very  handsome,  you  know. 
I  always  heard  he  was  a  most  excellent  man;  and 
you  know,  my  dear,  we  are  not  to  suppose  but 
what,  if  you  had  had  a  suitable  fortune,  he  would 
have  come  down  with  something  more;  for  J[  am 
sure  he  must  be  a  most  liberal-minded  man." 

*^  Nobody  can  think  better  of  Mr.  Morland  than 
I  do,  I  am  sure.  But  everybody  has  their  failing, 
you  know;  and  everybody  has  a  right  to  do  what 
they  like  with  their  own  money." 

Catherine  was  hurt  by  these  insinuations.  "  I 
am  very  sure,"  said  she,  ^'that  my  father  has 
promised  to  do  as  much  as  he  can  afford." 

Isabella  recollected  herself.  ^'As  to  that,  my 
sweet  Catherine,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt,  and  you 
know  me  well  enough  to  be  sure  that  a  much 
smaller  income  would  satisfy  me.  It  is  not  the 
want  of  more  money  that  makes  me  just  at  present 
a  little  out  of  spirits :  I  hate  money ;  and  if  our 
union  could  take  2:>lace  now  upon  only  fifty  pounds 
a  year,  I  should  not  have  a  wish  unsatisfied.  Ah, 
11 


162  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

my  Catherine,  you  have  found  me  out.  There  's 
the  sting.  The  long,  long,  endless  twa  years  and 
a  half  that  are  to  pass  hefore  yourjbrother' can  hold 
the  living." 

^*Yes,  yes,  my  darling  Isabella,"  said  Mrs. 
Thorpe,  ^'we  perfectly  see  into  your  heaKL  You 
have  no  disguise.  We  perfectly  understand  the 
present  vexation;  and  everybody  must  love  you  the 
better  for  such  a  noble,  honest  affection." 

Catherine's  uncomfortable  feelings  began  to  les- 
sen. She  endeavored  to.  believe  that  the  delay  of 
the  marriage  was  the-  onl;5fcource  of  Isabella's  re- 
gret; and  when  she  saw  her  at  their  next  interview 
as  cheerful  and  amiable  as  ever,  endeavored  to  for- 
get that  she  had  for  a  minute  thought  otherwise. 
James  soon  followed  his  letter,  and  was  received 
with  the  most  giatifying  kindness. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  163 


'     i.^ 


M        CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Aliens  had  now  entered  on  the  sixth  week 
of  their  stay  in  Bath;  and  whether  it  should  be 
the  last,  was  for  some  time  a  question  to  which 
Catherine  listened  with  a  beating  heart.  To  have 
her  acquaintance  with  tHjTilneys  end  so  soon,  was 
an  evil  which  nothing  could  counterbalance.  Her 
whole  happiness  seemed  at  stake,  while  the  affair 
was  in  suspense,  and  everything  secured  when  it 
was  determined  that  the  lodgings  should  be  taken 
for  another  fortnight.  What  this  additional  fort- 
night was  to  produce  to  her  beyond  the  pleasure  of 
sometimes  seeing  Henry  Tilney,  made  but  a  small 
part  of  Catherine's  speculation.  Once  or  twice, 
indeed,  since  James's  engagement  had  taught  her 
what  could  be  done,  she  had  got  so  far  as  to  in- 
dulge in  a  secret  '' perhaps,"  but  in  general  the 
felicity  of  being  with  him  for  the  present  bounded 
her  views :  the  present  was  now  comprised  in  an- 
other three  weeks,  and  her  happiness  being  certain 
for  that  period,  the  rest  of  her  life  was  at  such  a 
distance  as  to  excite  but  little  interest.  In  the 
course  of  the  morning  which  saw  tliis  business  ar- 
ranged, she  visited  Miss  Tilney,  and  poured  forth 
her  joyful  feelings.  It  was  doomed  to  be  a  day  of 
trial.  No  sooner  had  she  expressed  her  delight  in 
Mr.    Allen's  lengthened  stay,   than   Miss   Tilney 


164        NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 

told  her  of  her  father's  having  just  determined 
upon  quitting  Bath  hy  the  end  of  another  week. 
Here  was  a  blow!  The  past  suspense  of  the  morn- 
ing had  been  ease  and  quiet  to  the  present  disap- 
pointment. Catherine's  countenance  fell;  and  in 
a  voice  of  most  sincere  concern  she  echoed  Miss 
Tilney's  concluding  words,  "By  the  end  of  an- 
other week!  " 

*'Yes,  my  father  can  seldom  be  prevailed  on  to 
give  the  waters  what  I  think  a  fair  trial.  He  has 
been  disappointed  of  some  friends'  arrival  whom  he 
expected  to  meet  here,  and  as  he  is  now  pretty 
well,  is  in  a  hurry  to  get  home." 

"1  am  very  sorry  for  it,"  said  Catherine, 
dejectedly  *'if  I  had  known  this  before — '^ 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Miss  Tilney,  in  an  embarrassed 
manner,  '^  you  would  be  so  good  —  it  would  make 
me  verjT^  happy  if  —  " 

The  entrance  of  her  father  put  a  stop  to  the 
civility,  which  Catherine  was  beginning  to  hope 
might  introduce  a  desire  of  their  corresponding. 
After  addressing  her  with  his  usual  politeness, 
he  turned  to  his  daughter,  and  said,  "  Well, 
Eleanor,  may  I  congratulate  you  on  being  success- 
ful in  your  application  to  your  fair  friend?" 

'^I  was  just  beginning  to  make  the  request,  sir, 
as  you  came  in." 

*^Well,  proceed,  by  all  means.  I  know  how 
much  your  heart  is  in  it.  My  daughter,  Miss 
Morland, "  he  continued,  without  leaving  his 
daughter  time  to  speak,  "  has  been  forming  a  very 
bold  wish.  We  leave  Bath,  as  she  has  perhaps 
told  you,    on    Saturday  se'nnight.     A  letter  from 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  165 

my  steward  tells  me  that  my  presence  is  wanted 
at  home;  and  being  disappointed  in  my  hope  of 
seeing  the  Marquis  of  Longtown  and  General 
Courteney  here,  some  of  my  very  old  friends,  there 
is  nothing  to  detain  me  longer  in  Bath.  And 
could  we  carry  our  selfish  point  with  you,  we  should 
leave  it  without  a  single  regret.  Can  you,  in 
short,  be  prevailed  on  to  quit  this  scene  of  public 
triumph,  and  oblige  your  friend  Eleanor  with  your 
company  in  Gloucestershire?  I  am  almost  ashamed 
to  make  the  request,  though  its  presumption  would 
certainly  appear  greater  to  every  creature  in  Bath 
than  yourself.  Modesty  such  as  yours  —  But  not 
for  the  world  would  I  pain  it  by  open  praise.  If 
you  can  be  induced  to  honor  us  with  a  visit,  you 
will  make  us  happy  beyond  expression.  'T  is 
true,  we  can  offer  you  nothing  like  the  gayeties  of 
this  lively  place;  we  can  tempt  you  neither  by 
amusement  nor  splendor,  for  our  mode  of  living, 
as  you  see,  is  plain  and  unpretending;  yet  no 
endeavors  shall  be  wanting  on  our  side  to  make 
Northanger  Abbey  not  wholly  disagreeable." 

Northanger  Abbey !  —  These  were  thrilling  words, 
and  wound  up  Catherine's  feelings  to  the  highest 
point  of  ecstasy.  Her  grateful  and  gratified  heart 
could  hardly  restrain  its  expressions  within  the 
language  of  tolerable  calmness.  To  receive  so 
flattering  an  invitation!  To  have  her  company  so 
warmly  solicited!  Everything  honorable  and 
soothing,  every  present  enjoyment  and  every  future 
hope  was  contained  in  it;  and  her  acceptance,  with 
only  the  saving  clause  of  papa  and  mamma's  appro- 
bation, was  eagerly  given.  —  "I  will  write  home 


166  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

directly,"  said  she;  '^and  if  they  do  not  object,  as 
I  dare  say  they  will  not  —  " 

General  Tilney  was  not  less  sanguine,  having 
already  waited  on  her  excellent  friends  in  Pulteney 
Street,  and  obtained  their  sanction  of  his  wishes. 
*'  Since  the}''  can  consent  to  part  with  you,"  said 
he,  ' '  we  may  expect  philosophy  from  all  the 
world." 

Miss  Tilney  was  earnest,  though  gentle,  in  her 
secondary  civilities;  and  the  affair  became  in  a 
few  minutes  as  nearly  settled  as  this  necessary 
reference  to  Fullerton  would  allow. 

The  circumstances  of  the  morning  had  led 
Catherine's  feelings  through  the  varieties  of 
suspense,  security,  and  disappointment;  but  they 
were  now  safely  lodged  in  perfect  bliss ;  and  with 
spirits  elated  to  rapture,  with  Henry  at  her  heart, 
and  Northanger  Abbey  on  her  lips,  she  hurried 
home  to  write  her  letter.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morland, 
relying  on  the  discretion  of  the  friends  to  whom 
they  had  already  intrusted  their  daughter,  felt  no 
doubt  of  the  propriety  of  an  acquaintance  which 
had  been  formed  under  their  eye,  and  sent  there- 
fore, by  return  of  post,  their  ready  consent  to  her 
visit  in  Gloucestershire.  This  indulgence,  though 
not  more  than  Catherine  had  hoped  for,  completed 
her  conviction  of  being  favored  beyond  every  other 
human  creature,  in  friends  and  fortune,  circum- 
stance and  chance.  Everything  seemed  to  co- 
operate for  her  advantage.  By  the  kindness  of  her 
first  friends,  the  Aliens,  she  had  been  introduced 
into  scenes  where  pleasures  of  every  kind  had 
met  her.      Her  feelings,  her  preferences   had  each 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  167 

known  the  happiness  of  a  return.  Wherever  she 
felt  attachment,  she  had  been  able  to  create  it. 
The  affection  of  Isabella  was  to  be  secured  to  her 
in  a  sister.  The  Tilneys  —  they  by  whom,  above 
all,  she  desired  to  be  favorably  thought  of  —  out- 
stripped even  her  wishes  in  the  flattering  measures 
by  which  their  intimacy  was  to  be  continued. 
She  was  to  be  their  chosen  visitor,  she  was  to  be  for 
weeks  under  the  same  roof  with  the  person  whose 
society  she  mostly  prized;  and,  in  addition  to  all 
the  rest,  this  roof  was  to  be  the  roof  of  an  abbey! 
Her  passion  for  ancient  edifices  was  next  in  degree 
to  her  passion  for  Henry  Tilney,  —  and  castles  and 
abbeys  made  usually  the  charm  of  those  reveries 
which  his  image  did  not  fill.  To  see  and  explore 
either  the  ramparts  and  keep  of  the  one,  or  the 
cloisters  of  the  other,  had  been  for  many  weeks  a 
darling  wish,  though  to  be  more  than  the  visitor 
of  an  hour  had  seemed  too  nearly  impossible  for 
desire.  And  yet  this  was  to  happen.  With  all 
the  chances  against  her  of  house,  hall,  place,  park, 
court,  and  cottage,  Northanger  turned  up  an  ab- 
bey, and  she  was  to  be  its  inhabitant.  Its  long, 
damp  passages,  its  narrow  cells  and  ruined  chapel, 
were  to  be  within  her  daily  reach,  and  she  could 
not  entirely  subdue  the  hope  of  some  traditional 
legends,  some  awful  memorials  of  an  injured  and 
ill-fated  nun. 

iEt  was  wonderful  that  her  friends  should  seem  so 
little  elated  by  the  possession  of  such  a  home  5  that 
the  consciousness  of  it  should  be  so  meekly  borne. 
The  power  of  early  habit  only  could  account  for  it. 
•A  distinction  to  which  they  had  been  born  gave  no 


168  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

pride.     Their  superiority  of  abode  was  no  more  to 
them  than  their  superiority  of  person. 

Many  were  the  inquiries  she  was  eager  to  make 
of  Miss  Tilney;  but  so  active  were  her  thoughts 
that  when  these  inquiries  were  answered,  she  was 
hardly  more  assured  than  before  of  Northanger 
Abbey  having  been  a  richly  endowed  convent  at 
the  time  of  the  Reformation,  of  its  having  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  an  ancestor  of  the  Tilneys  on  its 
dissolution,  of  a  large  portion  of  the  ancient  build- 
ing still  making  a  part  of  the  present  dwelling 
although  the  rest  was  decayed,  or  of  its  standing 
low  in  a  valley,  sheltered  from  the  north  and  east 
by  rising  woods  of  oak. 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  169 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

With  a  mind  thus  full  of  happiness,  Catherine  was 
hardly  aware  that  two  or  three  days  had  passed 
away,  without  her  seeing  Isabella  for  more  than  a 
few  minutes  together.  She  began  first  to  be 
sensible  of  this,  and  to  sigh  for  her  conversation, 
as  she  walked  along  the  Pump-room  one  morning, 
by  Mrs.  Allen's  side,  without  anything  to  say  or  to 
hear;  and  scarcely  had  she  felt  a  five  minutes'  long- 
ing of  friendship,  before  the  object  of  it  appeared, 
and,  inviting  her  to  a  secret  conference,  led  the 
way  to  a  seat.  **This  is  my  favorite  place,''  said 
she,  as  they  sat  down  on  a  bench  between  the 
doors,  which  commanded  a  tolerable  view  of  every- 
bod}^  entering  at  either,  ^'it  is  so  out  of  the 
way. '" 

Catherine,  observing  that  Isabella's  eyes  were 
1  continually  bent  towards  one  door  or  the  other  as 
in  eager  expectation,  and  remembering  how  often 
she  had  been  falsely  accused  of  being  arch,  thought 
the  present  a  fine  opportunity  for  being  reallj^so; 
and  therefore  gayly  said.  *'Do  not  be  uneasy, 
Isabella.     James  will  soon  be  here." 

'*  Psha!  my  dear  creature,"  she  replied,  ''do  not 
think  me  such  a  simpleton  as  to  be  always  wanting 
to  confine  him  to  my  elbow.  It  would  be  hideous 
to  be  always  together;  we  should  be  the  jest  of  the 
place.     And  so  you  are  going  to  Northanger!     I 


170  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

am  amazingly  glad  of  it.  It  is  one  of  the  finest 
old  places  in  England,  I  understand.  I  shall 
depend  upon  a  most  particular  description  of  it." 

^^  You  shall  certainly  have  the  best  in  my  power 
to  give.  But  who  are  you  looking  for?  Are  your 
sisters  coming?  ^' 

"  I  am  not  looking  for  anybody.  One's  eyes 
must  be  somewhere,  and  you  know  what  a  foolish 
trick  I  have  of  fixing  mine,  when  my  thoughts  are 
a  hundred  miles  off.  I  am  amazingly  absent:  I 
believe  I  am  the  most  absent  creature  in  the  world. 
Tilney  says  it  is  always  the  case  with  minds  of  a 
certain  stamp." 

^^But  I  thought,  Isabella,  you  had  something  in 
particular  to  tell  me?  " 

* '  Oh,  yes^  and  so  I  have.  But  here  is  a  proof  of 
what  I  was  saying.  My  poor  head!  I  have  quite 
forgot  it.  Well,  the  thing  is  this,  —  I  have. just 
had  a  letter  from  John;  you  can  guess  the 
contents.'' 

^'No,  indeed,  I  cannot." 

*'My  sweet  love,  do  not  be  so  abominably 
affected.  What  can  he  write  about  but  yourself? 
You  know  he  is  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with 
you." 

"  With  me,  dear  Isabella!  " 

"Nay,  my  sweetest  Catherine,  this  is  being  quite 
absurd!  Modesty,  and  all  that,  is  very  well  in  its 
way,  but  really  a  little  common  honesty  is  some- 
times quite  as  becoming.  I  have  no  idea  of  beingj 
so  overstrained!  It  is  fishing  for  compliments. 
His  attentions  were  such  as  a  child  must  have 
noticed.     And  it  was  but  half  an  hour  before  he  left 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  171 

Bath,  that  you  gave  him  the  most  positive  encour- 
agement. He  says  so  in  this  letter;  says  that  he 
as  good  as  made  you  an  offer,  and  that  you  received 
his  advances  in  the  kindest  way;  and  now  he 
wants  me  to  urge  his  suit,  and  say  all  manner  of 
pretty  things  to  you.  So  it  is  in  vain  to  affect 
ignorance." 

Catherine,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  truth, 
expressed  her  astonishment  at  such  a  charge, 
protesting  her  innocence  of  every  thought  of  Mr. 
Thorpe's  being  in  love  with  her,  and  the  conse- 
quent impossibilily  of  her  having  ever  intended 
to  encourage  him.  '*'As  to  any  attentions  on  his 
side,  I  do  declare,  upon  my  honor,  I  never  was 
sensible  of  them  for  a  moment,  —  except  just  his 
asking  me  to  dance  the  first  day  of  his  coming. 
And  as  to  making  me  an  offer,  or  anything  like  it, 
there  must  be  some  unaccountable  mistake.  I 
could  not  have  misunderstood  a  thing  of  that  kind, 
you  know !  —  and,  as  I  ever  wish  to  be  believed,  I 
solemnly  protest  that  no  syllable  of  such  a  nature 
ever  passed  between  us.  The  last  half-hour  before 
he  went  away !  It  must  be  all  and  completely  a 
mistake  —  for  I  did  not  see  him  once  that  whole 
morning." 

"  But  that  you  certainly  did,  for  you  spent  the 
whole  morning  in  Edgar's  Buildings,  —  it  was  the 
day  your  father's  consent  came,  —  and  I  am  pretty 
sure  that  you  and  John  were  alone  in  the  parlor 
some  time  before  you  left  the  house." 

*^Are  you?  Well,  if  you  say  it,  it  was  so,  I  dare 
say;  but  for  the  life  of  me,  I  cannot  recollect  it. 
1    do  remember  now  being  with  you,  and  seeing 


172  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

him  as  well  as  the  rest;  but  that  we  were  ever  alone 
for  five  minutes  —  However,  it  is  not  worth  argu- 
ing about;  for  whatever  might  pass  an  his  side, 
you  must  be  convinced,  by  my  having  no  recollection 
of  it,  that  I  never  thought  nor  expected  nor  wished 
for  anything  of  the  kind  from  him.  I  am  exces- 
sively concerned  that  he  should  have  any  regard  for 
me;  but  indeed  it  has  been  quite  unintentional 
on  my  side.  I  never  had  the  smallest  idea  of  it. 
Pra}^  undeceive  him  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  tell  him 
I  beg  his  pardon;  that  is  —  I  do  not  know  what  I 
ought  to  say  —  but  make  him  understand  what  I 
mean,  in  the  properest  way.  I  would  not  speak 
disrespectfully  of  a  brother  of  yours,  Isabella,  I  am 
sure ;  but  you  know  very  well  that  if  I  could  think 
of  one  man  more  than  another,  he  is  not  the 
person."  Isabella  was  silent.  "  My  dear  friend, 
you  must  not  be  angr}'-  with  me.  I  cannot  suppose 
your  brother  cares  so  very  much  about  me.  And, 
you  know,  we  shall  still  be  sisters." 

*'  Yes,  yes,"  with  a  blush,  '^  there  are  more  ways 
than  one  of  our  being  sisters.  But  where  am  I 
wandering  to  ?  Well,  my  dear  Catherine,  the  case 
seems  to  be  that  you  are  determined  against  poor 
John,  - —  is  not  it  so?  " 

^'I  certainly  cannot  return  his  affection,  and  as 
certainly  never  meant  to  encourage  it.'' 

*^  Since  that  is  the  case,  I  am  sure  I  shall  not 
tease  you  any  further.  John  desired  me  to  speak 
to  you  on  the  subject,  and  therefore  I  have.  But 
I  confess,  as  soon  as  I  read  his  letter,  I  thought  it 
a  very  foolish,  imprudent  business,  and  not  likely 
to  promote  the  good  of  either;  for  what  were  you 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  173 

to  live  upon,  supposing  you  came  together  ?  You 
have  both  of  you  something,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is  not 
a  trifle  that  will  support  a  family  nowadays ;  and 
after  all  that  romancers  may  say,  there  is  no  doing 
without  money.  I  only  wonder  John  could  think 
of  it;  he  could  not  have  received  my  last." 

^^You  do  acquit  me,  then,  of  anything  wrong? 
You  are  convinced  that  I  never  meant  to  deceive 
your  brother,  never  suspected  him  of  liking  me 
till  this   moment?^' 

^'  Oh,  as  to  that,''  answered  Isabella,  laughingly, 
'  I  do  not  pretend  to  determine  what  your  thoughts 
and  designs  in  time  past  may  have  been.  All 
that  is  best  known  to  yourself.  A  little  harmless 
flirtation  or  so  will  occur,  and  one  is  often  drawn 
on  to  give  more  encouragement  than  one  wishes  to 
stand  by.  But  you  may  be  assured  that  I  am  the 
last  person  in  the  world  to  judge  you  severel}^ 
All  those  things  should  be  allowed  for  in  youth 
and  high  spirits.  What  one  means  one  day,  you 
know,  one  may  not  mean  the  next.  Circumstances 
change,  opinions  alter." 

^'But  my  opinion  of  your  brother  never  did  al- 
ter; it  was  always  the  same.  You  are  describing 
what  never  happened.'' 

*'My  dearest  Catherine,"  continued  the  other, 
without  at  all  listening  to  her,  '^I  would  not  for 
all  the  world  be  the  means  of  hurrying  you  into 
an  engagement  before  you  knew  what  you  were 
about.  I  do  not  think  anything  would  justify  me 
in  wishing  you  to  sacrifice  all  your  happiness 
imerely  to  oblige  my  brother,  because  he  is  my 
brother,  and  who,   perhaps,   after  all,  you   know, 


174  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

miglit  be  just  as  happy  without  you;  for  people 
seldom  know  what  the^^  would  be  at,  —  young  men 
especially,  they  are  so  amazingly  changeable  and 
inconstant.  What  I  say  is,  why  should  a  brother's 
happiness  be  dearer  to  me  than  a  friend's?  You 
know  I  carry  my  notions  of  friendship  pretty  high. 
But,  above  all  things,  my  dear  Catherine,  do  not 
be  in  a  hurry.  Take  my  word  for  it,  that  if  you 
are  in  too  great  a  hurry,  you  will  certainly  live  to 
repent  it.  Tilney  says,  there  is  nothing  people 
are  so  often  deceived  in  as  the  state  of  their  own 
affections;  and  I  believe  he  is  very  right.  Ah! 
here  he  comes;  never  mind,  he  will  not  see  us,  I 
am  sure." 

Catherine,  looking  up,  perceived  Captain  Til- 
ney; and  Isabella,  earnestl}^  fixing  her  eye  on  him 
as  she  spoke,  soon  caught  his  notice.  He  ap- 
proached immediately,  and  took  the  seat  to  which 
her  movements  invited  him.  His  first  address 
made  Catherine  start.  Though  spoken  low,  she 
could  distinguish,  ^^  What!  always  to  be  watched, 
in  person  or  by  proxy!  " 

^^Psha,  nonsense!"  was  Isabella's  answer,  in 
the  same  half  whisper.  ^^  Why  do  you  put  such 
things  into  my  head?  If  I  could  believe  it —  my 
spirit,  you  know,  is  pretty  independent." 

^'I  wish  your  heart  were  independent.  That 
would  be  enough  for  me." 

"My  heart,  indeed!  What  can  you  have  to  do 
with  hearts?  You  men  have  none  of  you  any 
hearts." 

*  ^  If  we  have  not  hearts,  we  have  eyes ;  and  they 
give  us  torment  enough." 


J 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  175 

''Do  tliey?  I  am  sorry  for  it;  I  am  sorry  they 
find  anything  so  disagreeable  in  me.  I  will  look 
another  way.  I  hope  this  pleases  you, "  turning  her 
back  on  him ;  "  I  hope  your  eyes  are  not  tormented 
now." 

''Never  more  so;  for  the  edge  of  a  blooming 
cheek  is  still  in  view, —  at  once  too  much  and  too 
little." 

Catherine  heard  all  this,  and,  quite  out  of  coun- 
tenance, could  listen  no  longer.  Amazed  that 
Isabella  could  endure  it,  and  jealous  for  her 
brother,  she  rose  up,  and  saying  she  should  join 
Mrs.  Allen,  proposed  their  walking.  But  for  this 
Isabella  showed  no  inclination.  She  was  so  amaz- 
ingly tired,  and  it  was  so  odious  to  parade  about 
the  Pump-room;  and  if  she  moved  from  her  seat, 
she  should  miss  her  sisters :  she  was  expecting  her 
sisters  every  moment ;  so  that  her  dearest  Cather- 
ine must  excuse  her,  and  must  sit  quietly  down 
again.  But  Catherine  could  be  stubborn  too;  and 
Mrs.  Allen  just  then  coming  up  to  propose  their 
returning  home,  she  joined  her  and  walked  out  of 
the  Pump-room,  leaving  Isabella  still  sitting  with 
Captain  Tilney.  With  much  uneasiness  did  she 
thus  leave  them.  It  seemed  to  her  that  Captain 
Tilney  was  falling  in  love  with  Isabella,  and 
Isabella  unconsciously  encouraging  him;  uncon- 
sciously it  must  be,  for  Isabella's  attachment  to 
James  was  as  certain  and  well  acknowledged  as  her 
engagement.  To  doubt  her  truth  or  good  inten- 
tions was  impossible;  and  yet,  during  the  whole  of 
their  conversation,  her  manner  had  been  odd.  She 
wished  Isabella  had  talked  more   like  her  usual 


176  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

self,  and  not  so  much  abont  money,  and  had  not  I 
looked  so  well  pleased  at  the  sight  oi  Captain  Til-  ! 
ney.  How  strange  that  she  should  not  perceive 
his  admiration!  Catherine  longed  to  give  her  a 
hint  of  it,  to  put  her  on  her  guard,  and  prevent  all 
the  pain  which  her  too  lively  behavior  might  other- 
wise create  both  for  him  and  her  brother. 

The  compliment  of  John  Thorpe's  affection  did 
not  make  amends  for  this  thoughtlessness  in  his 
sister.  She  was  almost  as  far  from  believing  as 
from  wishing  it  to  be  sincere ;  for  she  had  not  for- 
gotten that  he  could  mistake,  and  his  assertion  of 
the  offer  and  of  her  encouragement  convinced  her 
that  his  mistakes  could  sometimes  be  verj^  egre- 
gious. In  vanity,  therefore,  she  gained  but  little ; 
her  chief  profit  was  in  wonder.  That  he  should 
think  it  worth  his  while  to  fancy  himself  in  love 
with  her  was  a  matter  of  lively  astonishment. 
Isabella  talked  of  his  attentions;  she  had  never 
been  sensible  of  any :  but  Isabella  had  said  many 
things  which  she  hoped  had  been  spoken  in  haste, 
and  would  never  be  said  again ;  and  upon  this  she 
was  glad  to  rest  altogether  for  present  ease  and 
comfort. 


NORTHANGEK   ABLEY.  177 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  FEW  days  passed  away;  and  Catherine,  though 
not  allowing  herself  to  suspect  her  friend,  could 
not  help  watching  her  closely.  The  result  of  her 
ohservations  was  not  agreeable.  Isabella  seemed 
an  altered  creature.  When  she  saw  her  indeed 
surrounded  only  by  their  immediate  friends  in 
Edgar's  Buildings  or  Pulteney  Street,  her  change 
of  manners  was  so  trifling  that,  had  it  gone  no 
farther,  it  might  have  passed  unnoticed.  A  some- 
thing of  languid  indifference,  or  of  that  boasted 
absence  of  mind  which  Catherine  had  never  heard 
of  before,  would  occasionally  come  across  her;  but 
had  nothing  worse  appeared,  that  might  only  have 
spread  a  new  grace  and  inspired  a  warmer  interest. 
But  when  Catherine  saw  her  in  public,  admitting 
Captain  Tilney's  attentions  as  readily  as  they  were 
offered,  and  allowing  him  almost  an  equal  share 
with  James  in  her  notice  and  smiles,  the  altera- 
tion became  too  positive  to  be  passed  over.  What 
could  be  meant  by  such  unsteady  conduct,  what 
her  friend  could  be  at,  was  beyond  her  comprehen- 
sion. Isabella  could  not  be  aware  of  the  pain  she 
was  inflicting;  but  it  was  a  degree  of  wilful 
thoughtlessness  which  Catherine  could  not  but 
resent.  James  was  the  sufferer.  She  saw  him 
grave  and  uneasy;  and  however  careless  of  his 
present    comfort   the  woman   might   be    who    had 

12 


178  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

given  him  her  heart,  to  her  it  was  alwaj^s  an 
object.  For  poor  Captain  Tilney  too  she  was 
greatly  concerned.  Though  his  looks  did  not 
please  her,  his  name  was  a  passport  to  her  good- 
will, and  she  thought  with  sincere  compassion  of 
his  approaching  disappointment;  for  in  spite  of 
what  she  had  believed  herself  to  overhear  in  the 
Pump-room,  his  behavior  was  so  incompatible  with 
a  knowledge  of  Isabella's  engagement  that  she 
could  not,  upon  reflection,  imagine  him  aware  of 
it.  He  might  be  jealous  of  her  brother  as  a  rival; 
but  if  more  had  seemed  implied,  the  fault  must 
have  been  in  her  misapprehension.  She  wished, 
by  a  gentle  remonstrance,  to  remind  Isabella  of 
her  situation,  and  make  her  aware  of  this  double 
unkindness ;  but  for  remonstrance,  either  opportu- 
nity or  comprehension  was  always  against  her.  If 
able  to  suggest  a  hint,  Isabella  could  never  under- 
stand it.  In  this  distress,  the  intended  departure 
of  the  Tilney  family  became  her  chief  consolation; 
their  journey  into  Gloucestershire  was  to  take 
place  within  a  few  days,  and  Captain  Tilney's 
removal  would  at  least  restore  peace  to  every  heart 
but  his  own.  But  Captain  Tilnejr  had  at  present 
no  intention  of  removing;  he  was  not  to  be  of  the 
party  to  Northanger,  he  was  to  continue  at  Bath. 
When  Catherine  knew  this,  her  resolution  was 
directly  made.  She  spoke  to  Henry  Tilney  on  the 
subject,  regretting  his  brother's  evident  partiality 
for  Miss  Thorpe,  and  entreating  him  to  make 
known  her  prior  engagement. 

*^My   brother    does    know    it,"    was    Henry's 
answer. 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.         179 

'^Does  he?  —  then  why  does  he  stB,y  here?  " 

He  made  no  reply,  and  was  beginning  to  talk 
of  something  else;  but  she  eagerly  continued; 
*'Why  do  not  you  persuade  him  to  go  away? 
The  longer  he  stays,  the  worse  it  will  be  for  him 
at  last.  Pray  advise  him  for  his  own  sake,  and 
I  for  everybody's  sake,  to  leave  Bath  directly.  Ab- 
Isence  will  in  time  make  him  comfortable  again; 
but  he  can  have  no  hope  here,  and  it  is  only  stay- 
ing to  be  miserable." 

Henry  smiled,  and  said,  "  I  am  sure  my  brother 
would   not    wish  to   do  that." 

''  Then  you  will  persuade  him  to  go  away?  " 

^'Persuasion  is  not  at  command;  but  pardon 
me,  if  I  cannot  even  endeavor  to  persuade  him. 
.1  have  myself  told  him  that  Miss  Thorpe  is  en- 
gaged. He  knows  what  he  is  about,  and  must  be 
his  own  master." 

I  ''No,  he  does  not  know  what  he  is  about," 
/cried  Catherine;  ''he  does  not  know  the  pain  he 
is  giving  my  brother.  JNot  that  James  has  ever 
I  told  me  so,  but  I  am  sure  he  is  very  un- 
icomfortable." 

"  And  are  you  sure  it  is  my  brother's  doing?  " 
I      *'  Yes,  very  sure." 

I  "Is  it  my  brother's  attentions  to  Miss  Thorpe, 
I  or  Miss  Thorpe's  admission  of  them,  that  gives 
jthe  pain?" 

"Is  not  it  the  same  thing?" 
j      "I  think  Mr.  Morland   would   acknowledge   a 
i difference.     No  man  is  offended  by  another  man's 
i admiration    of     the    woman    he    loves;    it    is    the 
woman  only  who  can  make  it  a  torment." 


180  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

Catherine  blushed  for  her  friend,  and  said: 
**  Isabella  is  wrong.  But  I  am  sure  she  cannot 
mean  to  torment,  for  she  is  very  much  attached  to 
my  brother.  She  has  been  in  love  with  him  ever 
since  they  first  met,  and  while  my  father's  con- 
sent was  uncertain,  she  fretted  herself  almost 
into  a  fever.  You  know  she  must  be  attached 
to  him." 

**I  understand:  she  is  in  love  with  James,  and 
flirts  with  Frederick.'' 

^^  Oh,  no,  not  flirts.  A  woman  in  love  with  one 
man  cannot  flirt  with  another." 

'*  It  is  probable  that  she  will  neither  love  so 
well  nor  flirt  so  well  as  she  miglit  do  either 
singly.  The  gentlemen  must  each  give  up  a 
little." 

After   a   short  pause  Catherine   resumed 
*^Then  you  do  not  believe  Isabella  so  very  much 
attached  to  my  brother?" 

*■  I  can  have  no  opinion  on  that  subject." 

^^But  what  can  your  brother  mean?  If  he 
knows  her  engagement,  what  can  he  mean  by  his 
behavior?" 

^*  You  are  a  very  close  questioner." 

^' Am  I?    I  only  ask  what  I  want  to  be  told." 

^^But  do  you  onl}'  ask  what  I  can  be  expected 
to  tell?" 

*'Yes,  I  think  so;  for  you  must  know  your 
brother's  heart." 

''  My  brother's  heart,  as  you  term  it,  on  the 
present  occasion,  I  assure  you  I  can  only  guess 
at." 

''Well?" 


up   a 

j 

with:  I 


NORTHANGEE   ABBEY.  18J 

*^Well!  Nay,  if  it  is  to  be  guesswork,  let  us 
all  guess  for  ourselves.  To  be  guided  by  second- 
hand conjecture  is  pitiful.  The  premises  are  be- 
fore you.  My  brother  is  a  lively  and  perhaps 
sometimes  a  thoughtless  young  man ;  he  has  had 
about  a  week's  acquaintance  with  your  friend,  and 
he  has  known  her  engagement  almost  as  long  as 
he  h^s  known  her." 

''Well,"  said  Catherine,  after  some  moments' 
consideration,  ''you  may  be  able  to  guess  at  your 
brother's  intentions  from  all  this ;  but  I  am  sure 
I  cannot.  But  is  not  your  father  uncomfortable 
about  it?  Does  not  he  want  Captain  Tilney  to 
go  away?  Sure,  if  your  father  were  to  speak  to 
him,   he  would  go." 

"My  dear  Miss  Morland,"  said  Henry,  "in 
this  amiable  solicitude  for  your  brother's  comfort, 
may  you  not  be  a  little  mistaken?  Are  you  not 
carried  a  little  too  far?  Would  he  thank  you, 
either  on  his  own  account  or  Miss  Thorpe's,  for 
supposing  that  her  affection,  or  at  least  her  good 
behavior,  is  only  to  be  secured  by  her  seeing 
nothing  of  Captain  Tilney?  Is  he  safe  only  in 
solitude?  or  is  her  heart  constant  to  him  only 
when  unsolicited  by  any  one  else?  He  cannot 
think  this,  and  3^ou  may  be  sure  that  he  would 
not  have  you  think  it.  I  will  not  say,  'Do  not 
be  uneasy,'  because  I  know  that  you  are  so  at 
this  moment;  but  be  as  little  uneasy  as  you  can. 
You  have  no  doubt  of  the  mutual  attachment  of 
[your  brother  and  your  friend;  depend  upon  it, 
therefore,  that  real  jealousy  never  can  exist  between 
them;  depend  upon  it   that  no   disagreement  be- 


182  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

tween  tliem  can  be  of  any  duration.  Their  hearts 
are  open  to  each  other,  as  neither  heart  can  he  to 
you :  they  know  exactly  what  is  required  and  what 
can  he  home;  and  you  may  he  certain  that  one 
will  never  tease  the  other  heyond  what  is  known 
to  he  pleasant." 

Perceiving  her  still  to  look  douhtful  and  grave, 
he  added:  **  Though  Frederick  does  not  leave  Bath 
with  us,  he  will  probably  remain  but  a  very  short 
time,  perhaps  only  a  few  days,  behind  us.  His 
leave  of  absence  will  soon  expire,  and  he  must 
return  to  his  regiment.  And  what  will  then  be 
their  acquaintance?  The  mess-room  will  drink 
Isabella  Thorpe  for  a  fortnight,  and  she  will 
laugh  with  your  brother  over  poor  Tilney's  pas- 
sion for  a  month." 

Catherine  would  contend  no  longer  against  com- 
fort. She  had  resisted  its  approaches  during  the 
whole  length  of  a  speech,  but  it  now  carried  her 
captive.  Henry  Tilney  must  know  best.  She 
blamed  herself  for  the  extent  of  her  fears,  and 
resolved  never  to  think  so  seriously  on  the  subject 
again. 

Her  resolution  was  supported  by  Isabella's  be- 
havior in  their  parting  interview.  The  Thorpes 
spent  the  last  evening  of  Catherine's  stay  in  Pul- 
teney  Street;  and  nothing  passed  between  the 
lovers  to  excite  her  uneasiness,  or  make  her  quit 
them  in  apprehension.  James  was  in  excellent 
spirits,  and  Isabella  most  engagingly  placid. 
Her  tenderness  for  her  friend  seemed  rather  the 
first  feeling  of  her  heart;  but  that  at  such  a  mo- 
ment was  allowable;  and  once  she  gave  her  lover 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  183 

a  flat  contradiction,  and  once  she  drew  back  her 
hand;  but  Catherine  remembered  Henry's  instruc- 
tions, and  placed  it  all  to  judicious  affection. 
The  embraces,  tears,  and  promises  of  the  parting 
fair  ones  may  be  fancied. 


184        NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTEE    XX. 

xVTr.  and  Mrs.  Allen  were  sorry  to  lose  their 
young  friend,  whose  good-humor  and  cheerfulness 
had  made  her  a  valuable  companion,  and  in  the 
promotion  of  whose  enjoyment  their  own  had  been 
gently  increased.  Her  haj^piness  in  going  with 
Miss  Tilney,  however,  prevented  their  wishing  it 
otherwise;  and  as  they  were  to  remain  only  one 
more  week  in  Bath  themselves,  her  quitting  them 
now  would  not  long  be  felt.  Mr.  Allen  attended 
her  to  Milsom  Street,  where  she  was  to  breakfast, 
and  saw  her  seated  with  the  kindest  welcome 
among  her  new  friends;  but  so  great  was  her 
agitation  in  finding  herself  as  one  of  the  family, 
and  so  fearful  was  she  of  not  doing  exactly  what 
was  right,  and  of  not  being  able  to  preserve  their 
good  opinion,  that,  in  the  embarrassment  of  the 
first  five  minutes,  she  could  almost  have  wished  to 
return  with  him  to  Pulteney  Street. 

Miss  Tilney's  manners  and  Henry's  smile  soon 
did  away  some  of  her  unpleasant  feelings:  but 
still  she  was  far  from  being  at  ease;  nor  could 
the  incessant  attentions  of  the  General  himself 
entirely  reassure  her.  Nay,  perverse  as  it 
seemed,  she  doubted  whether  she  might  not  have 
felt  less,  had  she  been  less  attended  to.  His 
anxiety  for  her  comfort,  his  continual  solicitations 
that  she  would  eat,  and  his  often  expressed  fears 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  185 

of  lier  seeing  nothing  to  her  taste,  though  never 
in  her  life  before  had  she  beheld  half  such  variety 
on  a  breakfast-table,  made  it  impossible  for  her  to 
forget  for  a  moment  that  she  was  a  visitor.  She 
felt  utterly  unworthy  of  such  respect,  and  knew 
not  how  to  reply  to  it.  Her  tranquillity  was  not 
improved  by  the  General's  impatience  for  the 
appearance  of  his  eldest  son,  nor  by  the  displeas- 
ure he  expressed  at  his  laziness  when  Captain 
Tilney  at  last  came  down.  She  was  quite  pained 
by  the  severity  of  his  father's  reproof,  which 
seemed  disproportionate  to  the  offence;  and  much 
was  her  concern  increased,  when  she  found  herself 
the  principal  cause  of  the  lecture;  and  that  his 
tardiness  was  chiefly  resented  from  being  disre- 
spectful to  her.  This  was  placing  her  in  a  very 
uncomfortable  situation,  and  she  felt  great  com- 
passion for  Captain  Tilney,  without  being  able  to 
hope  for  his  good-will. 

He  listened  to  his  father  in  silence,  and  at- 
tempted not  any  defence,  which  confirmed  her  in 
fearing  that  the  inquietude  of  his  mind  on  Isa- 
bella's account  might,  by  keeping  him  long  sleep- 
less, have  been  the  real  cause  of  his  rising  late. 
It  was  the  first  time  of  her  being  decidedly  in  his 
company,  and  she  had  hoped  to  be  now  able  to 
form  her  opinion  of  him;  but  she  scarcely  heard 
his  voice  while  his  father  remained  in  the  room; 
and  even  afterwards,  so  much  were  his  spirits  af- 
fected, she  could  distinguish  nothing  but  these 
words,  in  a  whisper  to  Eleanor,  ''How  glad  I 
ishall  be  when  you  are  all  off  !  '^ 

The   bustle   of    going   was    not    pleasant.     The 


186  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

clock  struck  ten  while  the  trunks  were  carrying 
down,  and  the  General  had  fixed  to  be  out  of  Mil- 
som  Street  by  that  hour.  His  great-coat,  instead 
of  being  brought  for  him  to  put  on  directl}^,  was 
spread  out  in  the  curricle  in  which  he  was  to  ac- 
company his  son.  The  middle  seat  of  the  chaise 
was  not  drawn  out,  though  there  were  three  people 
to  go  in  it,  and  his  daughter's  maid  had  so  crowded 
it  with  parcels  that  Miss  Morland  would  not  have 
room  to  sit;  and  so  much  was  he  influenced  by 
this  apprehension  when  he  handed  her  in,  that  she 
had  some  difficulty  in  saving  her  own  new  writing- 
desk  from  being  thrown  out  into  the  street.  At 
last,  however,  the  door  was  closed  upon  the  three 
females,  and  they  set  off  at  the  sober  pace  in  which 
the  handsome,  highly  fed  four  horses  of  a  gentle- 
man usuall}^  perform  a  journey  of  thirty  miles :  such 
was  the  distance  of  Northanger  from  Bath,  to  be 
now  divided  into  two  equal  stages.  Catherine's 
spirits  revived  as  they  drove  from  the  door,  for 
with  Miss  Tilney  she  felt  no  restraint;  an^,  with 
the  interest  of  a  road  entirely  new  to  her,  of  an 
abbey  before,  and  a  curricle  behind,  she  caught  the 
last  view  of  Bath  without  any  regret,  and  met  with 
every  milestone  before  she  expected  it.  The  te- 
diousness  of  a  two  hours'  bait  at  Petty  France,  in 
which  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  eat 
without  being  hungry,  and  loiter  about  without 
anything  to  see,  next  followed;  and  her  admiration 
of  the  style  in  which  they  travelled,  of  the  fash- 
ionable chaise  and  four,  postilions  handsomely  liv- 
eried, rising  so  regularly  in  their  stirrups,  and 
numerous  outriders  properly  mounted,  sunk  a  little 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  187 

under  this  consequent  inconvenience.  Had  their 
party  been  perfect!}^  agreeable,  the  delay  would 
have  been  nothing;  but  General  Tilne}^,  though  so 
charming  a  man,  seemed  alwaysa  check  upon  his 
children's  spirits,  and  scarcely  anything  was  said 
but  by  himself;  the  observation  of  which,  with  his 
discontent  at  whatever  the  inn  afforded,  and  his 
angry  impatience  at  the  waiters,  made  Catherine 
grow  every  moment  more  in  awe  of  him,  and  ap- 
peared to  lengthen  the  two  hours  into  four.  At 
last,  however,  the  order  of  release  was  given;  and 
much  was  Catherine  then  surprised  by  the  Gen- 
eral's proposal  of  her  taking  his  place  in  his  son's 
curricle  for  the  rest  of  the  journey;  —  the  day  was 
fine,  and  he  was  anxious  for  her  seeing  as  much  of 
the  country  as  possible. 

The  remembrance  of  Mr.  Allen's  opinion  re- 
specting young  men's  open  carriages  made  her 
blush  at  the  mention  of  such  a  plan,  and  her  first 
thought  was  to  decline  it;  but  her  second  was  of 
greater  deference  for  General  Tilney's  judgment: 
he  could  not  propose  anything  improper  for  her; 
and  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes  she  found  her- 
self with  Henry  in  the  curricle,  as  happy  a  being 
as  ever  existed.  A  very  short  trial  convinced  her 
that  a  curricle  was  the  prettiest  equipage  in  the 
world;  the  chaise  and  four  wheeled  off  with  some 
grandeur,  to  be  sure,  but  it  was  a  heavy  and  trou- 
blesome business,  and  she  could  not  easily  forget 
its  having  stopped  two  hours  at  Petty  France. 
Half  the  time  would  have  been  enough  for  the 
curricle;  and  so  nimbly  were  the  light  horses  dis- 
posed to  move,  that,  had  not  the   General  chosen 


188  NORTHANGER  ABBEY, 

to  have  his  own  carriage  lead  the  way,  they  could 
have  passed  h  with  ease  in  half  a  minute.  But 
the  merit  of  the  curricle  did  not  all  belong  to  the 
horses;  Henry  drove  so  well,  so  quietly,  with- 
out making  any  disturbance,  without  parading  to 
her,  or  swearing  at  them;  so  different  from  the 
only  gentleman-coachman  whom  it  was  in  her 
power  to  compare  him  with  I  h^nd  then  his  hat  sat 
"^  so  well,  and  the  innumerable  capes  of  his  great-coat 
looked  so  becomingly  important!  To  be  driven 
by  him,  next  to  being  dancing  with  him,  was  cer- 
tainly the  greatest  happiness  in  the  world.  In  ad- 
dition to  every  other  delight,  she  had  now  that  of 
listening  to  her  own  praise ;  of  being  thanked  at 
least,  on  his  sister's  account,  for  her  kindness  in 
thus  becoming  her  visitor;  of  hearing  it  ranked  as 
real    friendship,    and    described   as    creating   real 

(gratitude.  His  sister,  he  said,  was  uncomfortably 
circumstanced;  she  had  no  female  companion,  and, 
in  the  frequent  absence  of  her  father,  was  some- 
times without  any  companion  at  all. 

'^  But  how  can  that  be?  "  said  Catherine;  "  are 
not  you  with  her?  " 

'^Northanger  is  not  more  than  half  my  home.   I 
have  an  establishment  at  my  own  house  in  Wood- 
ston,  which  is  nearly  twenty  miles  from  my  father's ; 
and  some  of  my  time  is  necessarily  spent  there." 
''How  sorry  you  must  be  for  that!  " 
/•         ''  I  am  always  sorry  to  leave  Eleanor." 

"  Yes ;  but  besides  your  affection  for  her,  you 
must  be  so  fond  of  the  Abbey !  After  being  used 
to  such  a  home  as  the  Abbey,  an  ordinary  parsonage- 
hous^  nust  be  very  disagreeable." 


NORTIIANGER   ABBEY.  189 

He  smiled,  and  said,  ^'  You  have  formed  a  very 
favorable  idea  of  the  Abbey.'' 

^'  To  be  sure  I  have.  Is  not  it  a  fine  old  place, 
just  like  what  one  reads  about?  " 

^'And  are  you  prepared  to  encounter  all  the 
horrors  that  a  building  such  as  ^  what  one  reads 
about '  may  produce?  Have  you  a  stout  heart? 
Nerves  fit  for  sliding  panels  and  tapestry?  " 

^^Oh,  yes,  I  do  not  think  I  should  be  easily 
frightened,  because  there  would  be  so  many  people 
in  the  house;  and  besides,  it  has  never  been  unin- 
habited and  left  deserted  for  years,  and  then  the 
family  come  back  to  it  unawares,  without  giving 
any  notice,  as  generally  happens." 

*'  No,  certainly.  We  shall  not  have  to  explore 
r  our  way  into  a  hall  dimly  lighted  by  the  expiring 
embers  of  a  wood  fire,  nor  be  obliged  to  spread  our 
beds  on  the  floor  of  a  room  without  windows,  doors, 
or  furniture.  But  you  must  be  aware  that  when  a 
young  lady  is  (by  whatever  means)  introduced  into 
a  dwelling  of  this  kind,  she  is  always  lodged  apart 
from  the  rest  of  the  family.  While  they  snugl}'' 
repair  to  their  own  end  of  the  house,  she  is  for- 
mally conducted  by  Dorothy,  the  ancient  house- 
keeper, up  a  different  staircase,  and  along  many 
gloomy  passages,  into  an  apartment  never  used 
since  some  cousin  or  kin  died  in  it  about  twenty 
years  before.  Can  you  stand  such  a  ceremony  as 
this?  Will  not  your  mind  misgive  you,  when  you 
find  yourself  in  this  gloomj^  chamber,  too  lofty  and 
extensive  for  you,  with  only  the  feeble  rays  of  a 
single  lamp  to  take  in  its  size,  its  walls  hung  with 
tapestry  exhibiting  figures  as  large  as  life,  and  the 


4 


190  NORTHANGEIi   ABBEY. 

bed,  of  dark  green  stuff  or  purple  velvet,  present* 
ing  even  a  funereal  appearance.  Will  not  your 
heart  sink  within  you?" 

^'  Oh,  but  this  will  not  happen  to  me,  I  am  sure.'' 

"How  fearfully  will  you  examine  the  furniture 
of  your  apartment!  And  what  will  you  discern? 
Not  tables,  toilettes,  wardrobes,  or  drawers,  but 
on  one  side  perhaps  the  remains  of  a  broken  lute, 
on  the  other  a  ponderous  chest  which  no  efforts  can 
open,  and  over  the  fireplace  the  portrait  of  some 
handsome  warrior,  whose  features  will  so  incompre.- 
hensibly  strike  you  that  you  will  not  be  able  to 
withdraw  your  eyes  from  it.  Dorothy,  meanwhile, 
no  less  struck  by  your  appearance,  gazes  on  you  in 
great  agitation,  and  drops  a  few  unintelligible 
hints.  To  raise  your  spirits,  moreover,  she  gives 
you  reason  to  suppose  that  the  part  of  the  Abbey 
you  inhabit  is  undoubtedly  haunted,  and  informs 
you  that  you  will  not  have  a  single  domestic  with- 
in call.  With  this  parting  cordial,  she  courtesies 
off:  you  listen  to  the  sound  of  her  receding  foot- 
steps as  long  as  the  last  echo  can  reach  you;  and 
when,  with  fainting  spirits,  you  attempt  to  fasten 
your  door,  you  discover,  with  increased  alarm,  that 
it  has  no  lock." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Tilney,  how  frightful  !  This  is  just 
like  a  book !  But  it  cannot  really  happen  to  me.  I 
am  sure  your  housekeeper  is  not  really  Dorothy. 
Well,  what  then?  " 

"Nothing  further  to  alarm,  perhaps,  may  occur 
the  first  night.  Af^er  surmounting  your  unconquer- 
able horror  of  the  bed,  you  will  retire  to  rest,  and 
get  a  few  hours'  unquiet  slumber.     But  on  the  sec- 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.         191 

oud,  or  at  farthest  the  third  night  after  your  ar- 
rival, you  will  probably  have  a  violent  storm. 
Peals  of  thunder  so  loud  as  to  seem  to  shake  the 
edifice  to  its  foundation  will  roll  round  the  neigh- 
boring mountains ;  and  during  the  frightful  gusts 
of  wind  which  accompany  it,  you  will  probably 
think  you  discern  (for  your  lamp  is  not  extin- 
guished) one  part  of  the  hanging  more  violently 
agitated  than  the  rest.  Unable  of  course  to  repress 
your  curiosity  in  so  favorable  a  moment  for  indulg- 
ing it.  you  will  instantly  arise,  and,  throwing  your 
dressing-gown  around  you,  proceed  to  examine  this 
mystery.  After  a  very  short  search  you  will  discover 
a  division  in  the  tapestry  so  artfully  constructed 
as  to  defy  the  minutest  inspection,  and  on  opening 
it,  a  door  will  immediately  appear,  which  door  be- 
ing only  secured  by  massy  bars  and  a  padlock,  you 
will,  after  a  few  efforts,  succeed  in  opening,  and, 
with  your  lamp  in  your  hand,  will  pass  through  it 
into  a  small  vaulted  room." 

^'No,  indeed;  I  should  be  too  much  frightened 
to  do  any  such  thing." 

'^  What !  not  when  Dorothy  has  given  you  to 
understand  that  there  is  a  secret  subterraneous 
communication  between  your  apartment  and  the 
chapel  of  St.  Anthony,  scarcely  two  miles  off. 
Could  you  shrink  from  so  simple  an  adventure? 
No,  no;  yon  will  proceed  into  this  small  vaulted 
room,  and  through  this  into  several  others,  without 
perceiving  anything  very  remarkable  in  either.  In 
one,  perhaps,  there  may  be  a  dagger,  in  another 
a  few  drops  of  blood,  and  in  a  third  the  remains  of 
some  instrument  of  torture;  but  there  being  noth- 


192  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

ing  in  all  this  out  of  the  common  way,  and  your 
lamp  being  nearly  exhausted,  you  will  return 
towards  your  own  apartment.  In  repassing  through 
the  small  vaulted  room,  however,  your  eyes  will  be 
-attracted  towards  a  large,  old-fashioned  cabinet  of 
ebony  and  gold,  which,  though  narrowlj^  examining 
the  furnijjre  before,  you  had  passed  unnoticed. 
Impelled  by  an  irresistible  presentiment,  you  will 
eagerly  advafflfe  to  it,  unlock  its  folding  doors,  and 
search  into  every  drawer;  but  for  some  time  with- 
out discovering  anything  of  imj^ortance,  — perhaps 
nothing  but  a  considerable  hoard  of  diamonds.  At 
last,  however,  by  touching  a  secret  spring,  an  inner 
compartment  will  open,  a  roll  of  paper  appears, 
you  seize  it, — it  contains  many- sheets  of  manu- 
script, —  you.  hasten  with  the  precious  treasure 
into  your  own  chamber;  but  scarcely  have  you 
been  able  to  decipher,  '  Oh  thou,  whomsoever  thou 
mayst  be,  into  whose  hands  these  memoirs  of  tlie 
wretched  Matilda  may  fall,'  —  when  your  lamp 
suddenly  expires  in  the  socket,  and  leaves  you  in 
total  darkness." 

*^0h,  noj  no;  do  not  say  so.  Well,  go  on." 
But  Henry  was  too  much  amused  by  the  interest 
he  had  raised,  to  be  able  to  carry  it  farther:  he 
could  no  longer  command  solemnity  either  of  sub- 
ject or  voice,  and  was  obliged  to  entreat  her  to  use 
her  own  fancy  in  the  perusal  of  Matilda's  woes. 
Catherine,  recollecting  herself,  grew  ashamed  of 
her  eagerness,  and  began  earnestly  to  assure  him 
that  her  attention  had  been  fixed  without  the 
smallest  apprehension  of  really  meeting  with  what 
he  related.      ^'Miss  Tilney,   she  was  sure,   would 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  193 

never  put  her  into  such  a  chamber  as  he  had  de- 
scribed.    She  was  not  at  all  afraid." 

As  they  drew  near  the  end  of  their  journey,  her 
impatience  for  a  sight  of  the  Abbey  —  for  some 
time  suspended  by  his  conversation  on  subjects 
very  different  —  returned  in  full  force,  and  every 
bend  in  the  road  was  expected,  with  ^giemn  awe, 
to  afford  a  glimpse  of  its  massy  waller  of  gray  stone, 
rising  amidst  a  grove  of  ancient  flp^s,  'v^th  the 
last  beams  of  the  sun  playing  in  beautiful  splendor 
on  its  high  Gothic  windows.  But  so  low  did  the 
building  stand,  that  she  found  herself  passing 
through  the  great  gates  of  the  lodge,  into  the  very 
grounds  of  Northapger,  without  having  discerned 
even  an  antique  chimney. 

She  knew  not  that  she  had  any  right  to  be  sur- 
prised, but  there  was  a  something  in  this  mode  of 
approach  which  she  certainly  had  not  expected. 
To  pass  between  lodges  of  a  modern  appearance,  to 
find  herself  with  such  ease  in  the  very  precincts  of 
the  Abbey,  and  driven  so  rapidly  along  a  smooth, 
level  road  of  fine  gravel,  without  obstacle,  alarm, 
or  solemnity  of  any  kind,  struck  her  as  odd  and 
inconsistent.  She  was  not  long  at  leisure,  how- 
ever, for  such  considerations.  A  sudden  scud  of 
rain  driving  full  in  her  face,  made  it  impossible 
for  her  to  observe  anything  further,  and  fixed  all 
her  thoughts  on  the  welfare  of  her  new  straw  bon- 
net; and  she  was  actually  under  the  Abbey  walls, 
was  springing,  with  Henry's  assistance,  from  the 
carriage,  was  beneath  the  shelter  of  the  old  porch, 
and  had  even  passed  on  to  the  hall,  where  her 
friend  and  the  General  were  waiting  to  welcome 
13 


194  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

her,  without  feeling  one  awful  foreboding  of  future 
misery  to  herself,  or  one  moment's  suspicion  of  any 
past  scenes  of  horror  being  acted  within  the  solemn 
edifice.  The  breeze  had  not  seemed  to  waft  the 
sighs  of  the  murdered  to  her;  it  had  wafted  noth- 
ing worse  than  a  thick  mizzling  rain;  and  having 
given  a  good  shake  to  her  habit,  she  was  ready  to 
be  shown  into  the  common  drawing-room,  and 
capable  of  considering  where  she  was. 

An  abbey!  Yes,  it  was  delightful  to  be  really 
in  an  abbey!  But  she  doubted,  as  she  looked 
round  the  room,  whether  anything  within  her 
observation  would  have  given  her  the  conscious- 
ness. The  furniture  was  in  all  the  profusion  and 
elegance  of  modern  taste.  The  fireplace,  where 
she  had  expected  the  ample  width  and  ponderous 
carving  of  former  times,  was  contracted  to  a  Rum- 
ford,  with  slabs  of  plain,  though  handsome  marble, 
and  ornaments  over  it  of  the  prettiest  English 
china.  The  windows,  to  which  she  looked  with 
peculiar  dependence,  from  having  heard  the  Gen- 
eral talk  of  his  preserving  them  in  their  Grothic 
form  with  reverential  care,  were  yet  less  what  her 
fancy  had  portrayed.  To  be  sure,  the  pointed  arch 
was  preserved,  —  the  form  of  them  was  Gothic,  — 
they  might  be  even  casements;  but  every  pane  was 
so  large,  so  clear,  so  light!  To  an  imagination 
which  had  hoped  for  the  smallest  divisions,  and 
the  heaviest  stonework,  for  painted  glass,  dirt,  and 
cobwebs,  the  difference  was  very  distressing. 

The  General,  perceiving  how  her  eye  was  em- 
ployed, began  to  talk  of  the  smallness  of  the  room 
and  simplicity  of  the  furniture,  where  everything 


NOKTHANGER  ABBEY.  195 

being  for  daily  use,  pretended  only  to  comfort,  etc. ; 
flattering  himself,  however,  that  there  were  some 
apartments  in  the  Abbey  not  unworthy  her  notice, 
and  was  proceeding  to  mention  the  costly  gilding 
of  one  in  particular,  when,  taking  out  his  watch, 
he  stopped  short,  to  pronounce  it,  with  surprise, 
within  twenty  minutes  of  five !  This  seemed  the 
word  of  separation;  and  Catherine  found  herself 
hurried  away  by  Miss  Tilney,  in  such  a  manner  as 
convinced  her  that  the  strictest  punctuality  to  the 
family  hours  would  be  expected  at  Northanger. 

Returning  through  the  large  and  lofty  hall,  they 
ascended  a  broad  staircase  of  shining  oak,  which, 
af-^r  many  flights  and  many  landing-places, 
bi ought  them  upon  a  long  wide  gallery.  On  one 
side  it  had  a  range  of  doors,  and  it  was  lighted  on 
the  other  by  windows,  which  Catherine  had  only 
time  to  discover  looked  into  a  quadrangle,  before 
Miss  Tilney  led  the  way  into  a  chamber,  and 
scarcely  staying  to  hope  she  would  find  it  comfort- 
able, left  her  with  an  anxious  entreaty  that  she 
would  make  as  little  alteration  as  possible  in  her 
dress. 


196       "  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A  moment's  glance  was  enough  to  satisfy  Cath- 
erine that  her  apartment  was  very  unlike  the  one 
which  Henry  had  endeavored  to  alarm  her  h}^  the 
desiiiription  of.  It  was  by  no  means  unreasonably 
large,  and  contained  neither  tapestry  nor  velvet. 
The  walls  were  papered,  the  floor  was  carpeted; 
the  windows  were  neither  less  perfect  nor  more 
dim  than  those  of  the  drawing-room  below;  the 
furniture,  though  not  of  the  latest  fashion,  was 
handsome  and  comfortable,  and  the  air  of  the  room 
altogether  far  from  uncheerful.  Her  heart  instan- 
taneously at  ease  on  this  point,  she  resolved  to  lose 
no  time  in  particular  examination  of  anything,  as 
she  greatly  dreaded  disobliging  the  General  by  any 
delay.  Her  habit,  therefore,  was  thrown  off  with 
all  possible  haste,  and  she  was  preparing  to  unpin 
the  linen  package,  which  the  chaise-seat  had  con- 
veyed for  her  immediate  accommodation,  when  her 
eye  suddenly  fell  on  a  large  high  chest,  standing 
back  in  a  deep  recess  on  one  side  of  the  fireplace. 
The  sight  of  it  made  her  start;  and  forgetting 
everything  else,  she  stood  gazing  on  it  in  motion- 
less wonder,  while  these  thoughts  crossed  her :  — 

**T]ns  is  strange,  indeed!  I  did  not  expect 
such  a  sight  as  this!  An  immense  heavy  chest! 
Wliat  can  it  hold?     Wh}-  should  it  be  placed  here? 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  197 

Pushed  back  too,  as  if  meant  to  be  out  of  sight !  I 
^Yill  look  into  it,  —  cost  me  what  it  may,  I  will  look 
into  it, — and  directly  too  —  by  daylight.  If  I 
stay  till  evening,  my  candle  may  go  out.'^  She 
advanced,  and  examined  it  closely :  it  was  of  cedar, 
curiously  inlaid  with  some  darker  wood,  and  raised 
about  a  foot  from  the  ground,  on  a  carved  stand  of 
the  same.  The  lock  was  silver,  though  tarnished 
from  age;  at  each  end  were  the  imperfect  remains 
of  handles  also  of  silver,  broken  perhaps  prema- 
turely by  some  strange  violence;  and  on  the  CQi^tre 
of  the  lid,  was  a  mysterious  cipher,  in  the  same 
metal.  Catherine  bent  over  it  intently,  but  with- 
out being  able  to  distinguish  anything  with  cer- 
tainty. She  could  not,  in  whatever  direction  she 
took  it,  believe  the  last  letter  to  be  a  T;  and  j^et 
that  it  should  be  anything  else  in  that  house  was  a 
circumstance  to  raise  no  common  degree  of  aston- 
ishment. If  not  originally  theirs,  by  what  strange 
events  could  it  liave  fallen  into  the  Tilney  family? 
Her  fearful  curiosity  was  ever}'  moment  growing 
greater;  and  seizing  with  trembling  hands  the 
hasp  of  the  lock,  she  resolved  at  all  hazards  to 
satisfy  herself  at  least  as  to  its  contents.  With 
difficulty,  for  something  seemed  to  resist  her 
efforts,  she  raised  the  lid  a  few  inches;  but  at 
that  moment  a  sudden  knocking  at  the  door  of  the 
room  made  her,  starting,  quit  her  hold,  and  the 
lid  closed  with  alarming  violence.  This  ill-timed 
intruder  was  Miss  Tilney's  maid,  sent  by  her 
mistress  to  be  of  use  to  Miss  Morland;  and 
though  Catherine  immediately  dismissed  her,  it 
recalled  her  to  the  sense  of  what  she  ouglit  to  be 


198  NORTIIANGER   ABBEY. 

doing,  and  forced  her,  in  spite  of  her  anxious  de- 
sire to  penetrate  this  mystery,  to  proceed  in  her 
dressing  without  further  delay.  Her  progress  was 
not  quick,  for  her  thoughts  and  her  eyes  were  still 
bent  on  the  object  so  well  calculated  to  interest 
and  alarm;  and  though  she  dare  not  waste  a  mo- 
ment upon  a  second  attempt,  she  could  not  remain 
many  paces  from  the  chest.  At  length,  however, 
having  slipped  one  arm  into  her  gown,  her  toilette 
seemed  so  nearly  finished  that  the  impatience  of 
her  curiosity  might  safely  be  indulged.  One  mo- 
ment surely  might  be  spared;  and  so  desperate 
should  be  the  exertion  of  her  strength,  that, 
unless  secured  by  supernatural  means,  the  lid  in 
one  moment  should  be  thrown  back.  With  this 
spirit  she  sprang  forward,  and  her  confidence  did 
not  deceive  her.  Her  resolute  effort  threw  back 
the  lid,  and  gave  to  her  astonished  eyes  the  view 
of  a  white  cotton  counterpane,  properly  folded, 
reposing  at  one  end  of  the  chest  in  undisputed 
possession! 

She  was  gazing  on  it  with  the  first  blush  of 
surprise,  when  Miss  Tilney,  anxious  for  her 
friend's  being  ready,  entered  the  room,  and  to  the 
rising  shame  of  having  harbored  for  some  minutes 
an  absurd  expectation,  was  then  added  the  shame 
of  being  caught  in  so  idle  a  search.  ''That  is  a 
curious  old  chest,  is  not  it?"  said  Miss  Tilney,  as 
Catherine  hastily  closed  it  and  turned  away  to  the 
glass.  *'It  is  impossible  to  say  how  many  gener- 
ations it  has  been  here.  How  it  came  to  be  first 
put  in  this  room  I  know  not,  but  I  have  not  had 
it  moved,   because  I  thought  it  might  sometimes 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  199 

be  of  use  in  holding  hats  and  bonnets.  The  worst 
of  it  is  that  its  weight  makes  it  difficult  to  open. 
In  that  corner,  however,  it  is  at  least  out  of  the 
way." 

Catherine  had  no  leisure  for  speech,  being  at 
once  blushing,  tying  her  gown,  and  forming  wise 
resolutions  with  the  most  violent  despatch.  Miss 
Tilney  gently  hinted  her  fear  of  being  late;  and  in 
half  a  minute  they  ran  downstairs  together,  in  an 
alarm  not  wholly  unfounded,  for  General  Tilney 
was  pacing  the  drawing-room,  his  watch  in  his 
hand,  and  having,  on  the  ver}"  instant  of  their 
entering,  pulled  the  bell  with  violence,  ordered 
*Minner  to  be  on  table  directly!" 

Catherine  trembled  at  the  emphasis  with  which 
he  spoke,  and  sat  pale  and  breathless,  in  a  most 
humble  mood,  concerned  for  his  children,  and 
detesting  old  chests;  and  the  General,  recovering 
his  politeness  as  he  looked  at  her,  spent  the  rest 
of  his  time  in  scolding  his  daughter  for  so  fool- 
ishly hurrying  her  fair  friend,  who  was  absolutely 
out  of  breath  from  haste,  when  there  was  not  the 
lleast  occasion  for  hurr}^  in  the  world;  but  Cather- 
iine  could  not  at  all  get  over  tlie  double  distress  of 
j  having  involved  her  friend  in  a  lecture  and  been 
a  great  simpleton  herself,  till  they  were  happily 
seated  at  the  dinner-table,  when  the  General's 
complacent  smiles,  and  a  good  appetite  of  her 
own,  restored  her  to  peace.  The  dining-parlor 
was  a  noble  room,  suitable  in  its  dimensions  to  a 
much  larger  drawing-room  than  the  one  in  com- 
mon use,  and  fitted  up  in  a  style  of  luxury  and 
expense  which  was  almost  lost  on  the  unpractised 


200  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

eye  of  Catherine,  who  saw  little  more  than  its 
spaciousness  and  the  number  of  their  attendants. 
Of  the  former,  she  spoke  aloud  her  admiration; 
and  the  General,  with  a  very  gracious  counte- 
nance, acknowledged  that  it  was  by  no  means  an 
ill-sized  roomj  and  further  confessed  that  though 
as  careless  on  such  subjects  as  most  people,  he  did 
look  upon  a  tolerably  large  eating-room  as  one 
of  the  necessaries  of  life;  he  supposed,  however, 
^Hhat  she  must  have  been  used  to  much  better 
sized  apartments  at  Mr.   Allen's?  '^ 

"1^0,  indeed,"  was  Catherine's  honest  assur. 
ance;  *^Mr.  Allen's  dining-parlor  was  not  more 
than  half  as  large;  "  and  she  had  never  seen  so 
large  a  room  as  this  in  her  life.  The  General's 
good-humor  increased.  Why,  as  he  7iad  such  rooms, 
he  thought  it  would  be  simple  not  to  make  use  of 
them;  but,  upon  his  honor,  he  believed  there 
might  be  more  comfort  in  rooms  of  only  half  their 
size.  Mr.  Allen's  house,  he  was  sure,  must  be  ex- 
actly of  the  true  size  for  rational  happiness. 

The  evening  passed  without  any  further  disturb- 
ance, and  in  the  occasional  absence  of  General  Til- 
ney,  with  much  positive  cheerfulness.  It  was  only 
in  his  presence  that  Catherine  felt  the  smallest 
fatigue  from  her  journe}^;  and  even  then,  even  in 
moments  of  languor  or  restraint,  a  sense  of  general 
happiness  preponderated,  and  she  could  think  of 
her  friends  in  Bath  without  one  wish  of  being  with 
them. 

The  night  was  stormy;  the  wind  had  been  ris- 
ing at  intervals  the  whole  afternoon;  and  by  the 
time   the    party    broke  up,    it   blew   and    rained 


-i 


NORTHANGER   ABBF.Y.  201 

violently.  Catherine,  as  she  crossed  the  hall, 
listened  to  the  tempest  with  sensations  of  awe ;  and 
when  she  heard  it  rage  round  a  corner  of  the 
ancient  building,  and  close  with  sudden  fury  a 
distant  door,  felt  for  the  first  time  that  she  was 
really  in  an  abbey.  Yes,  these  were  characteristic 
sounds :  they  brought  to  her  recollection  a  count- 
less variety  of  dreadful  situations  and  horrid 
scenes,  which  such  buildings  had  witnessed,  and 
sach  storms  ushered  in;  and  most  heartily  did  she 
rejoice  in  the  happier  circumstances  attending  her 
entrance  within  walls  so  solemn!  She  had  noth- 
ing to  dread  from  midnight  assassins  or  drunken 
gallants.  Henry  had  certainly  been  only  in  jest  in 
what  he  had  told  her  that  morning.  In  a  house 
so  furnished  and  so  guarded,  she  could  have  nothing 
to  explore  or  to  suffer,  and  might  go  to  her  bed- 
room as  securely  as  if  it  had  been  her  own  chamber 
at  Fullerton.  Thus  wisely  fortifying  her  mind,  as 
she  proceeded  upstairs,  she  was  enabled,  especially 
on  perceiving  that  Miss  Tilney  slept  only  two 
doors  from  her,  to  enter  her  room  with  a  tolerably 
stout  heart;  and  her  spirits  were  immediately 
assisted  by  the  cheerful  blaze  of  a  wood  fire. 
**  How  much  better  is  this,''  said  she,  as  she 
walked  to  the  fender;  ^'how  much  better  to  find  a 
tire  ready  lit,  than  to  have  to  wait  shivering  in 
the  cold,  till  all  the  family  are  in  bed,  as  so  many 
poor  girls  have  been  obliged  to  do,  and  then  to 
have  a  faithful  old  servant  frightening  one  by  com- 
ing in  with  a  faggot !  How  glad  I  am  that  North- 
anger  is  what  it  is!  If  it  had  been  like  some 
other  places,  I  do  not  know  that  in  such  a  niglit  as 


202  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

this   T  could  have  answered  for  my   courage;  hut 
now,  to  be  sure,  there  is  nothing  to  alarm  one." 

She  looked  round  the  room.  The  window-cur- 
tains seemed  in  motion.  It  could  be  nothing  but 
the  violence  of  the  wind  penetrating  through  the 
divisions  of  the  shutters;  and  she  stept  boldly  for- 
ward, carelessly  humming  a  tune,  to  assure  herself 
of  its  being  so,  peeped  courageously  behind  each 
curtain,  saw  nothing  on  either  low  window-seat 
to  scare  her,  and  on  placing  a  hand  against  the 
shutter,  felt  the  strongest  conviction  of  the  wind's 
force.  A  glance  at  the  old  chest,  as  she  turned 
away  from  this  examination,  was  not  without  its 
use;  she  scorned  the  causeless  fears  of  an  idle 
fancy,  and  began  with  a  most  happy  indifference 
to  prepare  herself  for  bed.  *'  She  should  take  her 
time;  she  should  not  hurry  herself;  she  did  not 
care  if  she  were  the  last  person  up  in  the  house. 
But  she  would  not  make  up  her  fire;  that  would 
seem  cowardly,  as  if  she  wished  for  the  protection 
of  light  after  she  were  in  bed."  The  fire  therefore 
died  away;  and  Catherine,  having  spent  the  best 
part  of  an  hour  in  her  arrangements,  was  begin- 
ning to  think  of  stepping  into  bed,  when,  on  giving 
a  parting  glance  round  the  room,  she  was  struck 
by  the  appearance  of  a  high,  old-fashioned  black 
cabinet,  which,  though  in  a  situation  conspicu- 
ous enough,  had  never  caught  her  notice  before. 
Henry's  words,  his  description  of  the  ebony  cabinet 
which  was  to  escape  her  observation  at  first,  imme- 
diately rushed  across  her;  and  though  there  could  be 
nothing  really  in  it,  there  was  something  whimsi- 
cal, it  was  certainly  a  very  remarkable  coincidence! 


I 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  203 

She  took  her  candle  and  looked  closely  at  the 
cabinet.  It  was  not  absolutely  ebony  and  gold; 
but  it  was  Japan,  black  and  yellow  Japan  of  the 
handsomest  kind;  and  as  she  held  her  candle,  the 
yellow  had  very  much  the  effect  of  gold.  The  key 
was  in  the  door,  and  she  had  a  strange  fancy  to 
look  into  it ;  not  however  with  the  smallest  expecta- 
tion of  finding  anything,  but  it  was  so  very  odd, 
after  what  Henry  had  said.  In  short,  she  could 
not  sleep  till  she  had  examined  it.  So,  placing 
the  candle  with  great  caution  on  a  chair,  she  seized 
the  key  with  a  very  tremulous  hand  and  tried 
to  turn  it;  but  it  resisted  her  utmost  strength. 
Alarmed,  but  not  discouraged,  she  tried  it  another 
way :  a  bolt  flew,  and  she  believed  herself  success- 
ful; but  how  strangel}^  mysterious!  —  the  door  was 
still  immovable.  She  paused  a  moment  in  breath- 
less wonder.  The  wind  roared  down  the  chimney, 
the  rain  heat  in  torrents  against  the  windows,  and 
everything  seemed  to  speak  the  awfulness  of  her 
situation.  To  retire  to  bed,  however,  unsatisfied  on 
such  a  point  would  be  vain,  since  sleep  must  be 
impossible  with  the  consciousness  of  a  cabinet 
so  mysteriously  closed  in  her  immediate  vicinity. 
Again,  therefore,  she  applied  herself  to  the  key, 
and  after  moving  it  in  every  possible  way  for  some 
instants  with  the  determined  celerity  of  hope's  last 
effort,  the  door  suddenly  yielded  to  her  hand:  her 
heart  leaped  with  exultation  at  such  a  victory,  and 
having  thrown  open  each  folding-door,  the  second 
being  secured  only  by  bolts  of  less  wonderful  con- 
struction than  the  lock,  though  in  that  her  eye 
could  not  discern  any  thing  unusual,  a  double  range 


204  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

of  small  drawers  appeared  in  view,  with  some 
larger  drawers  above  and  below  them;  and  in 
the  centre  a  small  door,  closed  also  with  a  lock 
and  key,  secured  in  all  probability  a  cavity  of 
importance. 

Catherine's  heart  beat  quick,  but  her  courage  did 
not  fail  her.  With  a  cheek  flushed  by  hope,  and 
an  eye  straining  with  curiosity,  her  fingers 
grasped  the  handle  of  a  drawer  and  drew  it  forth. 
It  was  entirely  empty.  With  less  alarm  and 
greater  eagerness  she  seized  a  second,  a  third,  a 
fourth,  —  each  was  equally  empty.  Not  one  was 
left  unsearched,  and  in  not  one  was  anything 
found.  Well  read  in  the  art  of  concealing  a  treas- 
ure,  the  possibility  of  false  linings  to  the  drawers 
(^id  not  escape  her,  and  she  felt  round  each  with 
anxious  acuteness  in  vain.  The  place  in  the 
middle  alone  remained  now  unexplored;  and 
though  she  had  ^' never  from  the  first  had  the 
smallest  idea  of  finding  anything  in  any  part  of  the 
cabinet,  and  was  not  in  the  least  disappointed  at 
her  ill  success  thus  far,  it  would  be  foolish  not  to 
examine  it  thoroughly  while  she  was  about  it.'' 
It  was  some  time,  however,  before  she  could  un- 
fasten the  door,  the  same  difficulty  occurring  in 
the  management  of  this  inner  lock  as  of  the  outer; 
but  at  length  it  did  open:  and  not  vain,  as 
hitherto,  was  her  search;  her  quick  eyes  directly 
fell  on  a  roll  of  paper  pushed  back  into  the  further 
part  of  the  cavity,  apparently  for  concealment,  and 
her  feelings  at  that  moment  were  indescribable. 
Her  heart  fluttered,  her  knees  trembled,  and  her 
cheeks  grew  pale.     She  seized,  with  an  unsteady 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  205 

liand,  the  precious  manuscript,  for  half  a  glance 
sufficed  to  ascertain  written  characters;  and  while 
she  acknowledged  with  awful  sensations  this  strik- 
ing exemplification  of  what  Henry  had  foretold, 
resolved  instantly  to  peruse  every  line  before  she 
attempted  to  rest. 

The  dimness  of  the  light  her  candle  emitted 
made  her  turn  to  it  with  alarm;  but  there  was  no 
danger  of  its  sudden  extinction,  it  had  yet  some 
hours  to  burn;  and  that  she  might  not  have  any 
i  greater  difficulty  in  distinguishing  the  writing 
,  than  what  its  ancient  date  might  occasion,  she 
hastily  snuffed  it.  Alas!  it  was  snuffed  and 
extinguished  in  one.  A  lamp  could  not  have 
I  expired  with  more  awful  effect.  Catherine,  for  a 
few  moments,  was  motionless  with  horror.  It  was 
done  completely;  not  a  remnant  of  light  in  the 
wick  could  give  hope  to  the  rekindling  breath. 
Darkness  impenetrable  and  immovable  filled  the 
room.  A  violent  gust  of  wind,  rising  with  sud- 
den fury,  added  fresh  horror  to  the  moment. 
Catherine  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  In  the 
pause  which  succeeded,  a  sound  like  receding  foot- 
steps and  the  closing  of  a  distant  door  struck  on 
her  affrighted  ear.  Human  nature  could  support 
no  more.  A  cold  sweat  stood  on  her  forehead,  the 
manuscript  fell  from  her  hand,  and  groping  her 
way  to  the  bed,  she  jumped  hastily  in,  and  sought 
some  supension  of  agony  by  creeping  far  under- 
neath the  clothes.  To  close  her  eyes  in  sleep  that 
night  she  felt  must  be  entirely  out  of  the  question. 
With  a  curiosity  so  justly  awakened,  and  feelings 
in  every  way  so  agitated,  repose  must  be  absolutely 


206  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

impossible.  The  storm,  too,  abroad  so  dreadful! 
She  had  not  been  used  to  feel  alarm  from  wind,  but 
now  every  blast  seemed  fraught  with  awful  intelli- 
gence. The  manuscript  so  wonderfully  found,  so 
wonderfully  accomplishing  the  morning's  predic- 
tion, how  was  it  to  be  accounted  for?  What  could 
it  contain?  to  whom  could  it  relate?  by  what  means 
could  it  have  been  so  long  concealed?  and  how 
singularly  strange  that  it  should  fall  to  her  lot  to 
discover  it!  Till  she  had  made  herself  mistress 
of  its  contents,  however,  she  could  have  neither 
repose  nor  comfort;  and  with  the  sun's  first  rays 
she  was  determined  to  peruse  it.  But  many  were 
the  tedious  hours  which  must  yet  intervene. 
She  shuddered,  tossed  about  in  her  bed,  and  envied 
every  quiet  sleeper.  The  storm  still  raged;  and 
various  were  the  noises,  more  terrific  even  than 
the  wind,  which  struck  at  intervals  on  her  startled 
ear.  The  very  curtains  of  her  bed  seemed  at  one 
moment  in  motion,  and  at  another  the  lock  of  her 
door  was  agitated,  as  if  by  the  attempt  of  some- 
body to  enter.  Hollow  murmurs  seemed  to  creep 
along  the  gallery ;  and  more  than  once  her  blood 
was  chilled  by  the  sound  of  distant  moans.  Hour 
after  hour  passed  away,  and  the  wearied  Catherine 
had  heard  three  proclaimed  by  all  the  clocks  in 
the  house  before  the  tempest  subsided,  or  she 
unknowingly  fell  fast  asleep. 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  207 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  housemaid's  folding  back  her  window-  shut- 
ters at  eight  o'clock  the  next  day  was  the  sound 
which  first  roused  Catherine;  and  she  opened  her 
ejes,  wondering  that  they  could  ever  have  been 
closed,  on  objects  of  cheerfulness;  her  fire  was 
alreaay  burning,  and  a  bright  morning  had  suc- 
ceeded the  tempest  of  the  night.  Instantaneously 
with  the  consciousness  of  existence,  returned  her 
recollection  of  the  manuscript;  and  springing  from 
the  bed  in  the  very  moment  of  the  maid's  going 
away,  she  eagerly  collected  every  scattered  sheet 
which  had  burst  from  the  roll  on  its  falling  to  the 
ground,  and  flew  back  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  their 
perusal  on  her  pillow.  She  now  plainly  saw  that 
she  must  not  expect  a  manuscript  of  equal  length 
with  the  generality  of  what  she  had  shuddered 
over  in  books;  for  the  roll,  seeming  to  consist  en- 
tirely of  small  disjointed  sheets,  was  altogether 
but  of  trifling  size,  and  much  less  than  she  had 
supposed  it  to  be  at  first. 

Her  greedy  eye  glanced  rapidly  over  a  page. 
She  started  at  its  import.  Could  it.be  possible, 
or  did  not  hep  senses  play  her  false?  An  inven- 
tory of  linen,  in  coarse  and  modern  characters, 
seemed  all  that  was  before  her!     If  the  evidence 


208  NORTHANGER  ABBEY 

of  sight  might  be  trusted,  she  held  a  washing-bill 
in  her  hand.  She  seized  another  sheet,  and  saw 
the  same  articles  with  little  variation;  a  third, 
a  fourth,  and  a  fifth  presented  nothing  new. 
Shirts,  stockings,  cravats,  and  w^aistcoats  faced  \ 
her  in  each.  Two  others,  penned  by  the  same 
hand,  marked  an  expenditure  scarcely  more  inter- 
esting, in  letters,  hair-powder,  shoe-string  and 
breeches-ball.  And  the  larger  sheet,  which  had 
enclosed  the  rest,  seemed  by  its  first  cramp  line, 
^*To  poultice  chestnut  mare,"  a  farrier's  bill! 
Such  was  the  collection  of  papers  (left,  perhaps, 
as  she  could  then  suj^pose,  by  the  negligence  of  a 
servant  in  the  place  whence  she  had  taken  ^hem), 
which  had  filled  her  with  expectation  and  alarm, 
and  robbed  her  of  half  her  night's  rest!  She  felt 
humbled  to  the  dust.  Could  not  the  adventure  of 
the  chest  have  taught  her  wisdom?  A  corner  of 
it  catching  her  eye  as  she  lay,  seemed  to  rise  up 
in  judgment  against  her.  Nothing  could  now  be 
clearer  than  the  absurdity  of  her  recent  fancies. 
To  suppose  that  a  manuscript  of  many  generations 
back  could  have  remained  undiscovered  in  a  room 
such  as  that,  so  modern,  so  habitable!  or  that  she 
should  be  the  first  to  possess  the  skill  of  unlock- 
ing a  cabinet,  the  key  of  which  was  open  to  all! 

How  could  she  have  so  imposed  on  herself? 
Heaven  forbid  that  Henry  Tilney  should  ever 
know  her  folly!  And  it  was  in  a  great  meas- 
ure his  own  doing,  for  had  not  the  cabinet  ap- 
peared so  exactly  to  agree  with  his  description  of 
her  adv^entures,  she  should  never  have  felt  the 
smallest   curiosity   about    it.     This  was  the   only 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  209 

comfort  that  occurred.  Impatient  to  get  rid  of 
those  hateful  evidences  of  her  folly,  those  detest- 
able papers  then  scattered  over  the  bed,  she  rose 
directly;  and  folding  them  up  as  nearly  as  possible 
in  the  same  shape  as  before,  returned  them  to  the 
same  spot  within  the  cabinet,  with  a  very  hearty 
wish  that  no  untoward  accident  might  ever  bring 
them  forward  again,  to  disgrace  her  even  with 
herself. 

Why  the  locks  should  have  been  so  difficult  to 
open,  however,  was  still  something  remarkable, 
for  she  could  now  manage  them  with  perfect  ease. 
In  this  there  was  surely  something  mysterious; 
and  she  indulged  in  the  flattering  suggestion  for 
half  a  minute,  till  the  possibility  of  the  door's 
having  been  at  first  unlocked,  and  of  being  herself 
its  fastener,  darted  into  her  head  and  cost  her 
another  blush. 

She  got  away  as  soon  as  she  could  from  a  room 
in  which  her  conduct  produced  such  unpleasant 
reflections,  and  found  her  way  with  all  speed  to 
the  breakfast-parlor,  as  it  had  been  pointed  out  to 
her  by  Miss  Tilney  the  evening  before. 

Henry  was  alone  in  it;  and  his  immediate  hope 
of  her  having  been  undisturbed  by  the  tempest, 
with  an  arch  reference  to  the  character  of  the 
building  they  inhabited,  was  rather  distressing. 
For  the  world  would  she  not  have  her  weakness 
suspected;  and  yet,  unequal  to  an  absolute  false- 
hood, was  constrained  to  acknowledge  that  the 
wind  had  kept  her  awake  a  little.  "But  we  have 
a  charming  morning  after  it,"  she  added,  desiring 
to  get  rid  of  the  subject;    ''and  storms  and  sleep- 

14 


210  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

lessness  are  nothing  when  they  are  over.  What 
beautiful  hyacinths!  I  have  just  learnt  to  love  a 
hyacinth.'' 

^^And  how  might  you  learn?  By  accident  or 
argument?  '' 

'^Your  sister  taught  me:  I  cannot  tell  how. 
Mrs.  Allen  used  to  take  pains,  year  after  jesbv,  to 
make  me  like  them;  but  I  never  could,  till  I  saw 
them  the  other  day  in  Milsom  Street;  I  am  natur- 
ally indifferent  about  flowers." 

' '  But  now  you  love  a  hyacinth.  So  much  the  bet- 
ter. You  have  gained  a  new  source  of  enjoyment, 
and  it  is  well  to  have  as  many  holds  uj)on  happi- 
ness as  possible.  Besides,  a  taste  for  flowers  is 
always  desirable  in  your  sex,  as  a  means  of  getting 
you  out  of  doors,  and  tempting  you  to  more  fre- 
quent exercise  than  you  would  otherwise  take;  and 
though  the  love  of  a  hj^acinth  may  be  rather  do- 
mestic, who  can  tell,  the  sentiment  once  raised, 
but  you  may  in  time  come  to  love  a  rose?" 

^*But  I  do  not  want  any  such  pursuit  to  get  me 
out  of  doors.  The  pleasure  of  walking  and  breath- 
ing fresh  air  is  enough  for  me,  and  in  fine  weather 
I  am  out  more  than  lialf  my  time.  Mamma  says 
I  am  never  within." 

*' At  any  rate,  however,  I  am  pleased  that  you 
have  learnt  to  love  a  hyacinth.  The  mere  habit  of 
learuing  to  love  is  the  thing;  and  a  teachableness 
of  disposition  in  a  young  lady  is  a  great  blessing. 
Has  my  sister  a  pleasant  mode  of  instruction? '' 

Catherine  was  saved  the  embarrassment  of  at- 
tempting an  answer,  by  the  entrance  of  the  Gen- 
eral,   whose     smiling    compliments    announced   a 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  211 

happy  state  of  mind,  but  whose  gentle  hint  of 
sympathetic  early  rising  did  not  advance  her 
composure. 

The  elegance  of  the  breakfast  set  forced  itself 
on  Catherine's  notice  when  they  were  seated  at 
table;  and,  luckily,  it  had  been  the  General's 
choice.  He  was  enchanted  by  her  approbation  of 
his  taste,  confessed  it  to  be  neat  and  simple, 
thought  it  right  to  encourage  the  manufacture  of 
his  country;  and  for  his  part,  to  his  uncritical 
palate,  the  tea  was  as  well  flavored  from  the  clay 
of  Staffordshire  as  from  that  of  Dresden  or  Sevres. 
But  this  was  quite  an  old  set,  purchased  two  years 
ago.  The  manufacture  was  much  improved  since 
that  time;  he  had  seen  some  beautiful  specimens 
when  last  in  town,  and  had  he  not  been  perfectly  with- 
out vanity  of  that  kind,  might  have  been  tempted 
to  order  a  new  set.  He  trusted,  however,  that  an 
opportunity  might  erelong  occur  of  selecting  one, 
though  not  for  himself.  Catherine  was  probably  the 
only  one  of  the  party  who  did  not  understand  him. 

Shortly  after  breakfast  Henry  left  them  for 
Woodston,  where  business  required  and  would 
I  keep  him  two  or  three  days.  They  all  attended  in 
the  hall  to  see  him  mount  his  horse;  and  immedi- 
ately on  re-entering  the  breakfast-room,  Catherine 
walked  to  a  window  in  the  hope  of  catching  an- 
other glimpse  of  his  figure.  "  This  is  a  somewhat 
heavy  call  upon  your  brother's  fortitude, "  observed 
the  General  to  Eleanor.  *' Woodston  will  make 
Ibut  a  sombre  appearance  to-day." 

^'Is  it  a  pretty  place?"  asked  Catherine. 

"  What  say  you,  Eleanor?    Speak  your  opinion; 


212  NORTHANGEK  ABBEY. 

for  ladies  can  best  tell  the  taste  of  ladies  in  regard 
to  places  as  well  as  men.  I  think  it  would  be 
acknowledged  by  the  most  impartial  eye  to  have 
many  recommendations.  The  house  stands  among 
fine  meadows  facing  the  southeast,  with  an  excel- 
lent kitchen-garden  in  the  same  aspect;  the  M'alls 
surrounding  which  I  built  and  stocked  myself 
about  ten  jeavs  ago,  for  the  benefit  of  my  son.  It 
is  a  family  living,  Miss  Morland;  and  the  prop- 
erty in  the  place  being  chiefly  my  own,  you  may 
believe  I  take  care  that  it  shall  not  be  a  bad  one. 
Did  Henry's  income  depend  solely  on  this  living, 
he  would  not  be  ill  provided  for.  Perhaps  it  may 
seem  odd,  that  with  only  two  younger  children,  I 
should  think  any  profession  necessary  for  him;  and 
certainly  there  are  moments  when  we  could  all 
wish  him  disengaged  from  every  tie  of  business. 
But  though  I  may  not  exactly  make  converts  of 
you  young  ladies,  I  am  sure  your  father,  Miss 
Morland,  would  agree  with  me  in  thinking  it  ex- 
pedient to  give  every  young  man  some  employ- 
ment. The  money  is  nothing,  it  is  not  an  object; 
but  employment  is  the  thing.  Even  Frederick,  my 
eldest  son,  you  see,  who  will  perhaps  inherit  as 
considerable  a  landed  property  as  any  private  man 
in  the  county,  has  his  profession." 

The  imposing  effect  of  this  last  argument  was 
equal  to  his  wishes.  The  silence  of  the  lady 
proved  it  to  be  unanswerable. 

Something  had  been  said  the  evening  before  of 
her  being  shown  over  the  house,  and  he  now  offered 
himself  as  her  conductor;  and  though  Catherine 
had  hoped  to  explore  it  accompanied  only  by  his 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  213 

daughter,  it  v/as  a  proposal  of  too  much  happiness 
in  itself,  under  an}^  circumstances,  not  to  be  gladly 
accepted;  for  she  had  been  already  eighteen  hours 
in  the  Abbey,  and  had  seen  only  a  few  of  its 
I  rooms.  The  netting-box,  just  leisurely  drawn 
[forth,  was  closed  with  joyful  haste,  and  she  was 
ready  to  attend  him  in  a  moment.  ''And  when 
they  had  gone  over  the  house,  he  promised  himself, 
moreover,  the  pleasure  of  accompanying  her  into 
the  shrubberies  and  garden."  She  courtesied  her 
acquiescence.  "But  perhaps  it  might  be  more 
agreeable  to  her  to  make  those  her  first  object. 
The  weather  was  at  present  favorable,  and  at  this 
time  of  year  the  uncertainty  was  very  great  of  its 
continuing  so.  Which  would  she  prefer?  He  was 
equally  at  her  service.  Which  did  his  daughter 
think  would  most  accord  with  her  fair  friend's 
wishes?  But  he  thought  he  could  discern.  Yes, 
he  certainly  read  in  Miss  Morland's  eyes  a  judi- 
cious desire  of  making  use  of  the  present  smiling 
weather.  But  when  did  she  judge  amiss?  The 
Abbey  would  be  always  safe  and  dry.  He  yielded 
implicitly,  and  would  fetch  his  hat  and  attend 
them  in  a  moment."  He  left  the  room;  and  Cath- 
erine, with  a  disappointed,  anxious  face,  began  to 
speak  of  her  unwillingness  that  he  should  be  taking 
them  out  of  doors  against  his  own  inclination, 
under  a  mistaken  idea  of  pleasing  her;  but  she 
was  stopped  by  Miss  Tilney's  saying,  with  a  little 
confusion,  "  I  believe  it  will  be  wisest  to  take  the 
imorning  while  it  is  so  fine;  and  do  not  be  uneasj^ 
on  my  father's  account,  he  always  walks  out  at 
this  time  of  day." 


214  NORTIIANGER  ABBEY. 

Catherine  did  not  exactly  know  how  this  was  to 
be  understood.  Why  was  Miss  Tilney  embar- 
rassed? Could  there  be  any  unwillingness  on  the 
General's  side  to  show  her  over  the  Abbey?  Tlie 
proposal  was  his  own.  And  was  not  it  odd  that  he 
should  always  take  his  walk  so  early?  Neither 
her  father  nor  Mr.  Allen  did  so.  It  was  certainly 
very  provoking.  She  was  all  impatience  to  see 
the  house,  and  had  scarcely  any  curiosity  about  the 
grounds.  If  Henry  had  been  with  them,  indeed! 
but  now  she  should  not  know  what  was  picturesque 
when  she  saw  it.  Such  were  her  thoughts;  but 
she  kept  tliem  to  herself,  and  put  on  her  bonnet  in 
patient  discontent. 

She  was  struck,  however,  beyond  her  expecta- 
tion, by  the  grandeur  of  the  Abbey,  as  she  saw  it, 
for  the  first  time,  from  the  lawn.  The  whole 
building  enclosed  a  large  court;  and  two  sides  of 
the  quadrangle,  rich  in  Gothic  ornaments,  stood 
forward  for  admiration.  The  remainder  was  shut 
off  by  knolls  of  old  trees,  or  luxuriant  plantations, 
and  the  steep  woody  hills  rising  behind  to  give  it 
shelter  were  beautiful  even  in  the  leafless  month  of 
March.  Catherine  had  seen  nothing  to  compare 
with  it;  and  her  feelings  of  delight  were  so  strong 
that  without  waiting  for  any  better  authority,  she 
boldly  burst  forth  in  wonder  and  praise.  The 
General  listened  with  assenting  gratitude,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  his  own  estimation  of  Northanger  had 
waited  unfixed  till  that  hour. 

The  kitchen  garden  was  to  be  next  admired,  and 
he  led  the  way  to  it  across  a  small  portion  of  the 
park. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  215 

The  number  of  acres  contained  in  this  garden 
was  such  as  Catherine  could  not  listen  to  without 
dismay,  being  more  than  double  the  extent  of  all 
Mr.  Allen's,  as  well  as  her  father's,  including 
churchyard  and  orchard.  The  walls  seemed  count- 
less in  number,  endless  in  length ;  a  village  of  hot- 
houses seemed  to  arise  among  them,  and  a  whole 
parish  to  be  at  work  w^ithin  the  enclosure.  The 
General  was  flattered  by  her  looks  of  surprise, 
which  told  him  almost  as  plainly  as  he  soon  forced 
her  to  tell  him  in  words,  that  she  had  never  seen 
any  gardens  at  all  equal  to  them  before;  and  he 
then  modestly  owned  that,  ^'without  any  ambition 
of  that  sort  himself,  without  any  solicitude  about 
it,  he  did  believe  them  to  be  unrivalled  in  the 
kingdom.  If  he  had  a  hobby-horse,  it  was  that. 
He  loved  a  garden.  Though  careless  enough  in 
most  matters  of  eating,  he  loved  good  fruit, — or 
if  he  did  not,  his  friends  and  children  did.  There 
were  great  vexations,  however,  attending  such  a 
garden  as  his.  The  utmost  care  could  not  always 
secure  the  most  valuable  fruits.  The  pinery  had 
yielded  only  one  hundred  in  the  last  year.  Mr. 
Allen,  he  supposed,  must  feel  these  inconveniences 
as  well  as  himself. 

"'No,  not  at  all.  Mr.  Allen  did  not  care  about 
the  garden,  and  never  went  into  it." 

With  a  triumphant  smile  of  self-satisfaction,  the 
General  wished  he  could  do  the  same,  for  he  never 
entered  his  without  being  A^exed  in  some  way  or 
other,  by  its  falling  short  of  his  plan. 

"  How  were  IVIr.  Allen's  succession-houses 
worked?  "  describing  the  nature  of  his  own  as  they 
entered  them. 


216  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

^'Mr.    Allen    had    only   one    small    hot-house, 
which  Mrs.  Allen  had  the  use  of  for  her  plants  in 
winter,  and  there  was  a  tire  in  it  now  and  then." 
'       '•'■  He  is  a  happy  man!  "  said  the  General,  with 
a  look  of  ver?^  happy  contempt. 

Having  td^en  her  into  every  division,  and  led 
her  under .  every  wall,  till  she  was  heartily  weary 
of  seeing  and  wondering,  he  suffered  the  girls  at 
last  to  seize  the  advantage  of  an  outer  door,  and 
then  expressing  his  wish  to  examine  the  effect  of 
some  recent  alterations  about  the  tea-house,  pro- 
posed it  as  no  unpleasant  extension  of  their  walk, 
if  Miss  Morland  were  not  tired.  ^^But  where  are 
you  going,  Eleanor?  Why  do  you  choose  that 
cold,  damp  path  to  it?  Miss  Morland  will  get 
wet.     Our  best  way  is  across  the  park." 

''This  is  so  favorite  a  walk  of  mine,"  said  Miss 
Tilney,  ''that  I  always  think  it  the  best  and  near- 
est way.     But  perhaps  it  may  be  damp.'' 

It  was  a  narrow  winding  path  through^a  thick 
gi'ove  of  old  Scotch  firs;  and  Catherine,  struck  by 
its  gloomy  aspect  and  eager  to  enter  it,  could  not, 
even  by  the  General's  disapprobation,  be  kept  from 
stepping  forward.  He  perceived  her  inclination, 
and  having  again  urged  the  plea  of  health  in  vain, 
was  too  polite  to  make  further  opposition.  He 
excused  himself,  however,  from  attending  them: 
"The  rays  of  the  sun  were  not  too  cheerful  for 
him,  and  he  would  meet  them  by  another  course." 
He  turned  away;  and  Catherine  was  shocked  to 
find  how  much  her  spirits  were  relieved  by  the  sep- 
aration. The  shock,  however,  being  less  real  than 
the  relief,  offered  it  no  injury ;    and  she  began  to 


XORTIIANGER  ABBEY.  217 

talk  with  easy  gayety  of  the  delightful  melancholy 
which  such  a  grove  inspired. 

^^I  am  particularly  fond  of  this  spot/'  said  her 
comjmnion,  with  a  sigh.  *' It  was  my  mother's 
[favorite  walk.'' 

Catherine  had  never  heard  Mrs.  Tilney  men- 
Itioned  in  the  family  before;  and  the  interest  ex- 
cited by  this  tender  remembrance  showed  itself 
directly  in  her  altered  countenance,  and  in  the 
attentive  pause  with  which  she  waited  for  some- 
thing more. 

^^I  used  to  walk  here  so  often  with  her,"  added 
Eleanor;  '^  though  I  never  loved  it  then  as  I  have 
loved  it  since.  At  that  time,  indeed,  I  used  to 
wonder  at  her  choice.  But  her  memory  endears 
it  now." 

*'And  ought  it  not,"  reflected  Catherine,  ''to 
endear  it  to  her  husband?  Yet  the  General  would 
not  enter  it."  Miss  Tilney  continuing  silent,  she 
ventured  to  say,  *'Her  death  must  have  been  a 
great  affliction!  " 

"A  great  and  increasing  one,"  replied  the 
other  in  a  low  voice.  <'I  was  only  thirteen  when 
it  happened;  and  though  I  felt  my  loss  perhaps  as 
strongly  as  one  so  3'oung  could  feel  it,  I  did  not,  I 
could  not,  then  know  what  a  loss  it  was."  She 
stopped  for  a  moment,  and  then  added,  with  great 
firmness:  **I  have  no  sister,  you  know;  and 
though  Henry  —  though  my  brothers  are  very 
affectionate,  and  Henry  is  a  great  deal  here,  which 
I  am  most  thankful  for,  it  fs  impossible  for  me  not 
to  be  often  solitary'-." 

*'To  be  sure,  you  must  miss  him  very  much." 


218  NORTIIAXGER   ABBEY. 

*' A  mother  would  have  been  alwaj^s  present;  a 
mother  would  have  been  a  constant  friend;  her 
influence  would  have  been  beyond  all  other/' 

''AVas  she  a  very  charming  woman?  Was  she 
handsome?  Was  there  any  picture  of  her  in  the 
Abbey?  And  why  had  she  been  so  partial  to  that 
grove?  Was  it  from  dejection  of  spirits?"  — 
were  questions  now  eagerly  poured  forth.  The 
first  three  received  a  ready  affirmative,  the  two 
others  were  passed  by ;  and  Catherine's  interest  in 
the  deceased  Mrs.'^ilney  augmented  with  every 
question,  whether  answered  or  not.  Of  lier  un- 
happiness  in  marriage,  she  felt  persuaded.  The 
General  certainly  had  been  an  unkind  husband. 
He  did.  not  love  her  walk:  could  he,  therefore, 
have  loved  her?  And  besides,  handsome  as  he 
was,  there  was  a  something  in  the  turn  of  Iiis 
features  which  spoke  his  not  having  behaved  well 
to  lier. 

*'Her  picture,  I  suppose,''  blushing  at  the  con- 
summate art  of  her  own  question,  ''  hangs  in  your 
father's  room?  "    * 

^^No;  it  was  intended  for  the  drawing-room; 
but  my  father  was  dissatisfied  with  the  painting, 
and  for  some  time  it  had  no  place.  Soon  after  her 
death  I  obtained  it  for  my  own,  and  hung  it  in  my 
bedchamber,  where  I  shall  be  happy  to  show  it 
you:  it  is  very  like."  Here  was  another  proof. 
A  portrait  —  very  like  —  of  a  departed  wife,  not 
valued  by  the  husbandi  He  must  have  been  dread- 
fully cru'l  to  her!         % 

Catherine  attempted  no  longer  to  hide  from  her- 
self the  i.ature  of  the  feelings  which,   in  spite  of 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.         219 

all  his  attentions,  he  had  previously  excited;  and 
what  had  been  terror  and  dislike  before  was  now 
absolute  aversion.  Yes,  aversion!  His  cruelty 
to  such  a  charming  woman  made  him  odious  to 
her.  She  had  often  read  of  such  characters,  —  char- 
acters which  Mr.  Allen  had  been  used  to  call  un- 
natural and  overdrawn ;  but  here  was  proof  positive 
of  the  contrary. 

She  had  just  settled  this  point,  when  the  end  of 
the  path  brought  them  directly  upon  the  General; 
and  in  spite  of  all  her  virtuous  indignation,  she 
found  herself  again  obliged  to  walk  with  him, 
listen  to  him,  and  even  to  smile  when  he  smiled. 
Being  no  longer  able,  however,  to  receive  pleasure 
from  the  surrounding  objects,  she  soon  began  to 
walk  with  lassitude :  the  General  perceived  it,  and 
with  a  concern  for  her  health,  which  seemed  to  re- 
proach her  for  her  opinion  of  him,  was  most  urgent 
for  returning  with  his  daughter  to  the  house.  He 
would  follow  them  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Again 
they  parted;  but  Eleanor  was  called  back  in  half  a 
minute  to  receive  a  strict  charge  against  taking 
her  friend  round  the  Abbey  till  his  return.  This 
second  instance  of  his  anxiety  to  delay  what  she 
so  much  wished  for  struck  Catherine  as  very 
remarkable. 


% 


220  NORTIIANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

An  hour  passed  away  before  the  General  came  in, 
spent,  on  the  part  of  his  young  guest,  in  no  very 
favorable  consideration  of  his  character.  "This 
lengthened  absence,  these  solitary  rambles,  did 
not  speak  a  mind  at  ease,  or  a  conscience  void  of 
reproach."  At  length  he  appeared;  and  whatever 
might  have  been  the  gloom  of  his  meditations,  he 
could  still  smile  with  tliem.  Miss  Tilney,  under- 
standing in  part  her  friend's  curiosity  to  see  the 
house,  soon  revived  the  subject;  and  her  father 
being,  contrary  to  Catherine's  expectations,  unpro- 
vided with  any  pretence  for  further  delay,  beyond 
that  of  stopping  five  minutes  to  order  refreshmeuts 
to  be  in  the  room  by  their  return,  was  at  last  ready 
to  escort  them. 

They  set  forward;  and  with  a  grandeur  of  air,  a 
dignified  step,  which  caught  the  eye,  but  could  not 
shake  the  doubts  of  the  well-read  Catherine,  he  led 
the  way  across  the  hall,  through  the  common 
drawing-room  and  one  useless  antechamber,  into  a 
room  magnificent  both  in  size  and  furniture,  —  the 
real  drawing-room,  used  only  with  company  of 
consequence.  It  was  very  noble,  very  grand, 
very  charming !  was  all  that  Catherine  had  to  say, 
for  her  indiscrimii»,ting  eye  scarcely  discerned  the 
color  of  the  satin;  and  all  minuteness  of  praise,  all 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.         221 

praise  that  had  much  meaning,  was  supplied  hy 
the  General:  the  costliness  or  elegance  of  any 
room's  fitting-up  could  be  nothing  to  her;  she  cared 
for  no  furniture  of  a  more  modern  date  than  the 
fifteenth  century.  When  the  General  had  satisfied 
his  own  curiosity  in  a  close  examination  of  every 
well-known  ornament,  they  proceeded  into  the 
library,  —  an  apartment,  in  its  w^a}^,  of  equal  mag- 
nificence, exhibiting  a  collection  of  books  on 
wdiich  an  humble  man  might  have  looked  with 
pride.  Catherine  heard,  admired,  and  wondered 
with  more  genuine  feeling  than  before,  gathered 
all  that  she  could  from  this  storehouse  of  know- 
ledge by  running  over  the  titles  of  half  a  shelf, 
and  was  ready  to  proceed.  But  suites  of  apartments 
did  not  spring  up  with  her  wishes.  Large  as  was 
the  building,  she  had  already  visited  the  greatest 
part;  though,  on  being  told  that,  with  the  addition 
of  the  kitchen,  the  six  or  seven  rooms  she  had  now 
seen  surrounded  three  sides  of  the  court,  she  could 
scarcely  believe  it,  or  overcome  the  suspicion  of 
there  being  many  chambers  secreted.  It  was  some 
relief,  however,  that  they  were  to  return  to  the 
rooms  in  common  use  by  passing  through  a  few  of 
less  importance,  looking  into  the  court,  w^hich, 
with  occasional  passages,  not  wholly  unintricate, 
connected  the  different  sides ;  and  she  was  further 
soothed  in  her  progress,  by  being  told  that  she  was 
treading  what  had  once  been  a  cloister,  having 
traces  of  cells  pointed  out,  and  observing  several 
doors  that  were  neither  opened  nor  explained  to 
her;  by  finding  herself  successively  in  a  billiard- 
room,    and   in   the    General's   private   apartment, 


222  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

without  comprehending  their  connection,  or  being  = 
able   to   turn   aright   when    she    left   them;    and 
lastly,   by   passing   through   a   dark    little   room, 
owning  Henry's  authority,   and  strewed  with  his 
litter  of  books,    guns,    and  great-coats. 

From  the  dining-room,  of  which,  though  already 
seen,  and  always  to  be  seen  at  five  o'clock,  the 
General  could  not  forego  the  pleasure  of  pacing  out 
the  length,  for  the  more  certain  information  of 
Miss  Morland,  as  to  what  she  neither  doubted  nor 
cared  for,  they  proceeded  by  quick  communication 
to  the  kitchen,  — the  ancient  kitchen  of  the  con- 
vent, rich  in  the  massy  walls  and  smoke  of  former 
days,  and  in  the  stoves  and  hot  closets  of  the  pres- 
ent. The  General's  improving  hand  had  not  loi- 
tered here :  every  modern  invention  to  facilitate  the 
labor  of  the  cooks  had  been  adopted  within  this 
their  spacious  theatre;  and  when  the  genius  of 
others  had  failed,  his  own  had  often  produced  the 
perfection  wanted.  His  endowments  of  this  spot 
alone  might  at  any  time  have  placed  him  high 
among  the   benefactors   of  the   convent. 

With  the  walls  of  the  kitchen  ended  all  the  an- 
tiquity of  the  Abbey ;  the  fourth  side  of  the  quad- 
rangle having,  on  account  of  its  decaying  state, 
been  removed  by  the  General's  father,  and  the 
present  erected  in  its  place.  All  that  was  vener- 
able ceased  here.  The  new  building  was  not  only 
new,  but  declared  itself  to  be  so ;  intended  only  for 
offices,  and  enclosed  behind  by  stable-yards,  no 
uniformity  of  architecture  had  been  thought  neces- 
sary. Catherine  could  have  raved  at  the  hand 
which  had  swept  away  what  must  have  been  be- 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  223 

yond  the  value  of  all  the  rest,  for  the  purposes  of 
mere  domestic  economy;  and  would  willingly  have 
been  spared  the  mortification  of  a  walk  through 
scenes  so  fallen,  had  the  Greneral  allowed  it :  but  if 
he  had  a  vanity,  it  was  in  the  arrangement  of  his 
offices;  and  as  he  was  convinced  that  to  a  mind 
like  Miss  Morland's,  a  view  of  the  accommodations 
and  comforts  by  which  the  labors  of  her  inferiors 
were  softened  must  always  be  gratifying,  he 
should  make  no  apology  for  leading  her  on.  They 
took  a  slight  survey  of  all;  and  Catherine  was  im- 
pressed, beyond  her  expectation,  by  their  multipli- 
city and  their  convenience.  The  purposes  for 
which  a  few  shapeless  pantries  and  a  comfortless 
scullery  were  deemed  sufficient  at  Fullerton,  were 
here  carried  on  in  appropriate  divisions,  commodi- 
ous and  roomy.  The  number  of  servants  continu- 
ally appearing  did  not  strike  her  less  than  the 
number  of  their  offices.  Wherever  they  went, 
some  pattened  girl  stopped  to  courtesy,  or  some 
footman  in  dishabille  sneaked  off.  Yet  this  was 
an  abbey!  How  inexpressibly  different  in  these 
domestic  arrangements  from  such  as  she  had  read 
about,  —  from  abbeys  and  castles  in  which,  though 
certainly  larger  than  Northanger,  all  the  dirty 
work  of  the  house  was  to  be  done  by  two  pair  of 
female  hands  at  the  utmost.  How  they  could  get 
through  it  all,  had  often  amazed  Mrs.  Allen;  and 
when  Catherine  saw  what  was  necessary  here,  she 
began  to  be  amazed  herself. 

They  returned  to  the  hall,  that  the  chief  stair- 
case might  be  ascended,  and  the  beauty  of  its  wood 
and  ornaments  of  rich  carving  might  be  pointed 


224  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

out;  having  gained  the  top,  they  turned  in  an 
opposite  direction  from  the  gallery  in  which  her 
room  lay,  and  shortly  entered  one  on  the  same 
plan,  but  superior  in  length  and  breadth.  She 
was  here  shown  successively  into  three  large  bed- 
chambers, with  their  dressing-rooms,  most  com- 
pletely and  handsomel}^  fitted  up;  everything  that 
money  and  taste  could  do,  to  give  comfort  and  ele- 
gance to  apartments,  had  been  bestowed  on  these; 
and  being  furnished  within  the  last  five  years, 
they  were  perfect  in  all  that  would  be  generally 
pleasing,  and  wanting  in  all  that  could  give  pleas- 
ure to  Catherine.  As  they  were  surveying  the 
last,  the  General,  after  slightly  naming  a  few  of 
the  distinguished  characters  by  whom  they  had  at 
times  been  honored,  turned  with  a  smiling  counte- 
nance to  Catherine,  and  ventured  to  hope  tliat 
henceforward  some  of  their  earliest  tenants  might 
be  "  our  friends  from  Fullerton.^'  She  felt  the  un- 
expected compliment,  and  deeply  regretted  the 
impossibility  of  thinking  well  of  a  man  so  kindly 
disposed  towards  herself,  and  so  full  of  civility  to 
all  her  family. 

The  gallery  was  terminated  by  folding-doors, 
which  Miss  Tilney,  advancing,  had  thrown  open, 
and  passed  through,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of 
doing  the  same  by  the  first  door  to  the  left,  in  an- 
other long  reach  of  gallery,  when  the  General,  com- 
ing forwards,  called  her  hastily,  and,  as  Catherine 
thought,  rather  angrily  back,  demanding  whither 
she  were  going  ?  And  what  was  there  more  to  be 
seen  ?  Had  not  Miss  Morland  already  seen  all 
that  could  be  worth  her  notice  ?     And  did  she  not 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  225 

suppose  her  friend  might  be  glad  of  some  refresh- 
ment after  so  much  exercise  ?  Miss  Tilney  drew 
back  directly,  and  the  heavy  doors  were  closed 
upon  the  mortified  Catherine,  who,  having  seen, 
in  a  momentary  glance  beyond  them,  a  narrower 
passage,  more  numerous  openings,  and  symptoms 
of  a  winding  staircase,  believed  herself  at  last 
within  the  reach  of  something  worth  her  notice; 
and  felt,  as  she  unwillingly  paced  back  the  gallery, 
that  she  would  rather  be  allowed  to  examine  that 
end  of  the  house  than  see  all  the  finery  of  all  the 
rest.  The  General's  evident  desire  of  preventing 
such  an  examination  was  an  additional  stimulant. 
Something  was  certainly  to  be  concealed:  her 
fancy,  though  it  had  trespassed  latel}^  once  or 
twice,  could  not  mislead  her  here ;  and  what  that 
something  was,  a  short  sentence  of  Miss  Tilney's, 
as  they  followed  the  General  at  some  distance  down- 
stairs, seemed  to  point  out:  "I  was  going  to 
take  you  into  what  was  my  mother's  room,  —  the 
room  in  which  she  died,"  were  all  her  words; 
but  few  as  the}^  were,  they  conveyed  pages  of  intel- 
ligence to  Catherine.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the 
General  should  shrink  from  the  sight  of  such  ob- 
jects as  that  room  must  contain,  —  a  room  in  all 
probability  never  entered  by  him  since  the  dread- 
ful scene  had  passed  which  released  his  suffering 
wife,  and  left  him  to  the  stings  of  conscience. 

She  ventured,  when  next  alone  with  Eleanor,  to 
express  her  wish  of  being  permitted  to  see  it,  as 
well  as  all  the  rest  of  that  side  of  the  house;  and 
Eleanor  promised  to  attend  her  there,  whenever 
they  should  have  a  convenient  hour.  Catherine  un- 
15 


226  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

derstood  her;  the  General  must  be  watched  from 
home,  before  that  room  could  be  entered.  ''  It  re- 
mains as  it  was,  I  suppose  ?  ^'  said  she,  in  a  tone 
of  feeling. 

"  Yes,  entirely. '^ 

^'  And  how  long  ago  may  it  be  that  your  mother 
died?" 

^^She  has  been  dead  these  nine  years."  And 
nine  years,  Catherine  knew,  was  a  trifle  of  time, 
compared  with  what  generally  elapsed  after  the 
death  of  an  injured  wife,  before  her  room  was  put 
to  rights. 

"  You  were  with  her,  I  suppose,  to  the  last?  " 

*'  No,"  said  Miss  Tilney,  sighing;  ''I  was  un- 
fortunately from  home.  Her  illness  was  sudden 
and  short;  and  before  I  arrived  it  was  all  over." 

Catherine's  blood  ran  cold  with  the  horrid  sug- 
gestions which  naturally  sprang  from  these  words. 
Could  it  be  possible  ?  Could  Henry's  father  ? 
And  yet  how  maiij^  were  the  examples  to  justify 
even  the  blackest  suspicions!  And  when  she  saw 
him  in  the  evening,  while  she  worked  with  her 
friend,  slowly  pacing  the  drawing-room  for  an  hour 
together  in  silent  thoughtfulness,  with  downcast 
eyes  and  contracted  brow,  she  felt  secure  from  all 
possibility  of  wronging  him.  It  was  the  air  and 
attitude  of  a  Montoni !  What  could  more  plainly 
speak  the  gloomy  workings  of  a  mind  not  wholly 
dead  to  every  sense  of  humanity,  in  its  fearful  re- 
view of  past  scenes  of  guilt  ?  Unhappy  man  ! 
And  the  anxiousness  of  her  spirits  directed  her 
eyes  towards  his  figure  so  repeatedly  as  to  catch 
Miss  Tilney 's   notice.     ^'My  father,"   she  whis- 


NORTHANGEK  ABBEY.  227 

pered,  *^ often  walks  about  the  room  in  this  way; 
it  is  nothing  unusual.'' 

•^So  much  the  worse!''  thought  Catherine; 
Such  ill-timed  exercise  was  of  a  piece  with  the 
strange  unseasonableness  of  his  morning  walks, 
and  boded  nothing  good. 

After  an  evening  the  little  variety  and  seeming 
length  of  which  made  her  peculiarly  sensible  of 
Henry's  importance  among  them,  she  was  heartily 
glad  to  be  dismissed;  though  it  was  a  look  from 
the  General  not  designed  for  her  observation  which 
sent  his  daughter  to  the  bell.  When  the  butler 
would  have  lit  his  master's  candle,  however,  he 
was  forbidden.  The  latter  was  not  going  to  retire. 
*'I  have  many  pamphlets  to  finish,"  said  he  to 
Catherine,  "  before  I  can  close  my  eyes ;  and  per- 
haps may  be  poring  over  the  affairs  of  the  nation 
for  hours  after  you  are  asleep.  Can  either  of  us  be 
more  meetly  employed  ?  My  eyes  will  be  blinding 
for  the  good  of  others;  and  yours  preparing  by 
rest,  for  future  mischief." 

But  neither  the  business  alleged,  nor  the  mag- 
nificent compliment,  could  win  Catherine  from 
thinking  that  some  very  different  object  must  oc- 
casion so  serious  a  delay  of  proper  repose.  To  be 
kept  up  for  hours,  after  the  family  were  in  bed, 
by  stupid  pamphlets,  was  not  very  likely.  There 
must  be  some  deeper  cause:  something  was  to  be 
done  which  could  be  done  only  while  the  house- 
hold slept;  and  the  probability  that  Mrs.  Tilney 
yet  lived,  shut  up  for  causes  unknown,  and  receiv- 
ing from  the  pitiless  hands  of  her  husband  a 
nightly  supply  of  coarse  food,  was  the  conclusion 


228  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

which  necessarily  followed.  Shocking  as  was  the 
idea,  it  was  at  least  better  than  a  death  unfairly 
hastened,  as,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  she 
must  erelong  be  released.  The  suddenness  of  her 
reputed  illness;  the  absence  of  her  daughter,  and 
probably  of  her  other  children,  at  the  time,  — all 
favored  the  supposition  of  her  imprisonment.  Its 
origin  —  jealousy,  perhaps,  or  wanton  cruelty  — 
was  yet  to  be  unravelled. 

In  revolving  these  matters  while  she  undressed, 
it  suddenly  struck  her  as  not  unlikely,  that  she 
might  that  morning  have  passed  near  the  very  spot 
of  this  unfortunate  woman's  confinement,  — might 
have  been  within  a  few  paces  of  the  cell  in  which 
she  languished  out  her  days ;  for  what  part  of  the  I 
Abbey  could  be  more  fitted  for  the  purpose  than  ' 
that  which  yet  bore  the  traces  of  monastic  divi- 
sion ?  In  the  high-arched  passage,  paved  with 
stone,  which  already  she  had  trodden  with  peculiar 
awe,  she  well  remembered  the  doors  of  which  the 
General  had  given  no  account.  To  what  might 
not  those  doors  lead  ?  In  support  of  the  plausi- 
bility of  this  conjecture,  it  further  occurred  to 
her,  that  the  forbidden  gallery,  in  which  lay  the 
apartments  of  the  unfortunate  Mrs.  Tilney,  must 
be,  as  certainly  as  her  memory  could  guide  her, 
exactly  over  this  suspected  range  of  cells ;  and  the 
staircase  by  the  side  of  those  apartments  of  which 
she  had  caught  a  transient  glimpse,  communicating 
by  some  secret  means  with  those  cells,  might  well 
have  favored  the  barbarous  proceedings  of  her  hus- 
band. Down  that  staircase  she  had  perhaps  been 
conveyed  in  a  state  of  well-prepared  insensibility. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  229 

Catherine  sometimes  started  at  tlie  boldness  of 
her  own  surmises,  and  sometimes  hoped  or  feared 
that  she  had  gone  too  far;  but  they  were  supported 
by  such  appearances  as  made  their  dismissal  im- 
possible. 

The  side  of  the  quadrangle  in  which  she  sup- 
posed the  guilty  scene  to  be  acting  being,  accord- 
ing to  her  belief,  just  opj^osite  her  own,  it  struck 
her  that  if  judiciously  watched,  some  rays  of  light 
from  the  General's  lamp  might  glimmer  through 
the  lower  windows,  as  he  passed  to  the  prison  of 
his  wife;  and  twice  before  she  stepped  into  bed, 
she  stole  gently  from  her  room  to  the  corresponding 
window  in  the  gallery,  to  see  if  it  appeared;  but 
all  abroad  was  dark,  and  it  must  yet  be  too  early. 
The  various  ascending  noises  convinced  her  that 
the  servants  must  still  be  up.  Till  midnight  she 
supposed  it  would  be  in  vain  to  w^atch;  but  then, 
when  the  clock  had  struck  twelve,  and  all  was 
quiet,  she  would,  if  not  quite  appalled  by  darkness, 
steal  out  and  look  once  more.  The  clock  struck 
twelve, —  and  Catherine  had  been  half  an  hour 
asleep. 


230  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  next  day  afforded  no  opportunity  for  the  pro- 
posed examination  of  the  mysterious  apartments. 
It  was  Sunday,  and  the  whole  time  between  morn- 
ing and  afternoon  service  was  required  by  the 
General  in  exercise  abroad  or  eating  cold  meat  at 
home;  and  great  as  was  Catherine's  curiosity,  her 
courage  was  not  equal  to  a  wish  of  exploring  them 
after  dinner,  either  by  the  fading  light  of  the  sky 
between  six  and  seven  o'clock,  or  by  the  yet  more 
partial  though  stronger  illumination  of  a  treacher- 
ous lamp.  The  day  was  unmarked,  therefore,  by 
anything  to  interest  her  imagination  bej^ond  the 
sight  of  a  very  elegant  monument  to  the  memory 
of  Mrs.  Tilney,  which  immediately  fronted  the 
family  pew.  By  that  her  eye  was  instantly  caught 
and  long  retained;  and  the  perusal  of  the  highly 
strained  epitaph,  in  which  every  virtue  was 
ascribed  to  her  by  the  inconsolable  husband,  who 
must  have  been  in  some  way  or  other  her  destroyer, 
affected  her  even  to  tears. 

That  the  General,  having  erected  such  a  monu- 
ment, should  be  able  to  face  it,  was  not  perhaps 
very  strange;  and  yet  that  he  could  sit  so  boldly 
collected  within  its  view,  maintain  so  elevated 
an  air,  look  so  fearlessly  around,  nay,  that  he 
should  even  enter  the  church,  seemed  wonderful  to 


NORTHAXGER  ABBEY.  231 

Catherine.  Not,  however,  that  many  instances  of 
beings  equally  hardened  in  guilt  might  not  be 
produced.  She  could  remember  dozens  who  had 
persevered  in  every  possible  vice,  going  on  from 
crime  to  crime,  murdering  whomsoever  they  chose, 
without  any  feeling  of  humanity  or  remorse,  till  a 
violent  death  or  a  religious  retirement  closed  their 
black  career.  The  erection  of  the  monument  itself 
could  not  in  the  smallest  degree  affect  her  doubts 
of  Mrs.  Tilney's  actual  decease.  Were  she  even  to 
descend  into  the  family  vault  where  her  ashes  were 
supposed  to  slumber,  were  she  to  behold  the  coffin 
in  which  they  were  said  to  be  enclosed,  —  what 
could  it  avail  in  such  a  case?  Catherine  had  read 
too  much  not  to  be  perfectly  aware  of  the  ease  with 
which  a  waxen  figure  might  be  introduced,  and  a 
supposititious  funeral  carried  on. 

The  succeeding  morning  promised  something 
better.  The  General's  early  walk,  ill-timed  as  it 
was  in  every  other  view,  was  favorable  here;  and 
when  she  knew  him  to  be  out  of  the  house,  she 
directly  proposed  to  Miss  Tilney  the  accomplish- 
ment of  her  promise.  Eleanor  was  ready  to  oblige 
her;  and  Catherine  reminding  her  as  they  went  of 
another  promise,  their  first  visit  in  consequence 
was  to  the  portrait  in  her  bedchamber.  It  repre- 
sented a  very  lovely  woman,  with  a  mild  and  pen- 
sive countenance,  justifying  so  far  the  expectations 
of  its  new  observer;  but  they  were  not  in  every  re- 
spect answered,  for  Catherine  had  depended  upon 
meeting  with  features,  air,  complexion,  that  should 
be  the  very  counterpart,  the  very  image,  if  not  of 
Henry's,  of  Eleanor's;  — the  only  portraits  of  which 


232  NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  i 

she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  thinking  bearing 
always  an  equal  resemblance  of  mother  and  child. 
A  face  once  taken  was  taken  for  generations.  But 
here  she  was  obliged  to  look,  and  consider,  and 
study  for  a  likeness.  She  contemplated  it,  how- 
ever, in  spite  of  this  drawback,  with  much  emotion, 
and  but  for  a  yet  stronger  interest  would  have  left 
it  unwillingly. 

Her  agitation,  as  they  entered  the  great  gallery, 
was  too  much  for  any  endeavor  at  discourse;  she 
could  only  look  at  her  companion.  Eleanor's 
countenance  was  dejected,  yet  sedate;  and  its  com- 
posure spoke  her  inured  to  all  the  gloomy  objects 
to  which  they  were  advancing.  Again  she  passed 
through  the  folding- doors,  again  her  hand  was 
upon  the  important  lock,  and  Catherine,  hardiy 
able  to  breathe,  was  turning  to  close  the  former 
with  fearful  caution,  when  the  figure,  the  dreaded 
figure,  of  the  General  himself  at  the  further  end 
of  the  gallery  stood  before  her!  The  name  of 
*' Eleanor"  at  the  same  moment,  in  his  loudest 
tone,  resounded  through  the  building,  giving  to 
his  daughter  the  first  intimation  of  his  presence, 
and  to  Catherine  terror  upon  terror.  An  attempt 
at  concealment  had  been  her  first  instinctive  move- 
ment on  perceiving  him,  yet  she  could  scarcely 
hope  to  have  escaped  his  eye;  and  when  her  friend, 
w^ho  with  an  apologizing  look  darted  hastily  by  her, 
had  joined  and  disappeared  with  him,  she  ran  for 
safety  to  her  own  room,  and,  locking  herself  in, 
believed  that  she  should  never  have  courage  to  go 
down  again.  She  remained  there  at  least  an  hour, 
in   the    greatest   agitation,   deeply  commiserating 


NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY.       '  233 

the  state  of  her  poor  friend^  and  expecting  a  sum* 
mons  herself  from  the  angry  General  to  attend  him. 
in  his  own  apartment.  JSTo  summons,  however, 
arrived;  and  at  last,  on  seeing  a  carriage  drive  up 
to  the  Abbey,  she  was  emboldened  to  descend 
and  meet  him  under  the  protection  of  visitors. 
The  breakfast-room  was  gay  with  company;  and 
she  was  named  to  them  by  the  General  as  the  friend 
of  his  daughter,  in  a  complimentary  style,  which 
so  well  concealed  his  resentful  ire  as  to  make  her 
feel  secure  at  least  of  life  for  the  present.  And 
Eleanor,  with  a  command  of  countenance  which  did 
honor  to  her  concern  for  his  character,  taking  an 
early  occasion  of  saying  to  her,  *'  My  father  only 
wanted  me  to  answer  a  note,"  she  began  to  hope 
that  she  had  either  been  unseen  by  the  General,  or 
that  from  some  consideration  of  policy  she  should 
be  allowed  to  suppose  herself  so.  Upon  this  trust 
she  dared  still  to  remain  in  his  presence  after  the 
company  left  them,  and  nothing  occurred  to  dis- 
turb it. 

In  the  course  of  this  morning's  reflections,  she 
came  to  a  resolution  of  making  her  next  attempt  on 
the  forbidden  door  alone.  It  would  be  much  better 
in  every  respect  that  Eleanor  should  know  nothing 
of  the  matter.  To  involve  her  in  the  danger  of  a 
second  detection,  to  court  her  into  an  apartment 
which  must  wring  her  heart,  could  not  be  the 
office  of  a  friend.  The  General's  utmost  anger 
could  not  be  to  herself  what  it  might  be  to  a 
daughter;  and,  besides,  she  thought  the  examina- 
tion itself  would  be  more  satisfactory  if  made  with- 
out  any   companion.     It   would  be  impossible  to 


234  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

explain  to  Eleanor  the  suspicions,  from  which  th§ 
other  hadj  in  all  likelihood,  been  hitherto  happily 
exempt;  nor  could  she  therefore,  in  her  presence, 
search  for  those  proofs  of  the  General's  cruelty 
which,  however  they  might  yet  have  escaped  dis- 
covery, she  felt  confident  of  somewhere  drawing 
forth,  in  the  shape  of  some  fragmented  journal, 
continued  to  the  last  gasp.  Of  the  way  to  the 
apartment  she  was  now  perfectly  mistress;  and  as 
she  wished  to  get  it  over  before  Henry's  return, 
who  was  expected  on  the  morrow,  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost.  The  day  was  bright,  her  courage 
high:  at  four  o'clock  the  sun  was  now  two  hours 
above  the  horizon,  and  it  would  be  only  her  retir- 
ing to  dress  half  an  hour  earlier  than  usual. 

It  was  done ;  and  Catherine  found  herself  alone 
in  the  gallery  before  the  clocks  had  ceased  to 
strike.  It  was  no  time  for  thought :  she  hurried 
on,  slipped  with  the  least  possible  noise  through 
the  folding-doors,  and  without  stopping  to  look  or 
breathe,  rushed  forward  to  the  one  in  question. 
The  lock  yielded  to  her  hand,  and,  luckily,  with 
no  sullen  sound  that  could  alarm  a  human  being. 
On  tiptoe  she  entered:  the  room  was  before  her; 
but  it  was  some  minutes  before  she  could  advance 
another  step.  She  beheld  what  fixed  her  to  the 
spot  and  agitated  every  feature.  She  saw  a  large, 
well-proportioned  apartment,  a  handsome  dimity 
bed,  arranged  as  unoccupied  with  a  housemaid's 
care,  a  bright  Bath  stove,  mahogany  wardrobes 
and  neatly  painted  chairs,  on  which  the  warm 
beams  of  a  western  sun  gajly  poured  through  two 
sash  windows!     Catherine  had   expected  to  have 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  235 

her  feelings  worked,  and  worked  they  were. 
Astonishment  and  doubt  first  seized  them;  and  a 
shortly  succeeding  ray  of  common  sense  added 
some  bitter  emotions  of  shame.  She  could  not  be 
mistaken  as  to  the  room ;  but  how  grossly  mistaken 
in  everything  else! — in  Miss  Tilney's  meaning, 
in  her  own  calculation!  This  apartment,  to  which 
l^she  had  given  a  date  so  ancient,  a  position  so 
awful,  proved  to  be  one  end  of  what  the  General's 
father  had  built.  There  were  two  other  doors  in 
the  chamber,  leading  probably  into  dressing-closets; 
but  she  had  no  inclination  to  open  either.  Would 
the  veil  in  which  Mrs.  Tilney  had  last  walked,  or 
the  volume  in  which  she  had  last  read,  remain  to 
tell  what  nothing  else  was  allowed  to  whisper  ? 
Ko:  whatever  might  have  been  the  General's 
crimes,  he  had  certainly  too  much  wit  to  let  them 
sue  for  detection.  She  was  sick  of  exploring,  and 
desired  but  to  be  safe  in  her  own  room,  with  her 
own  heart  only  privy  to  its  folly ;  and  she  was  on 
the  point  of  retreating  as  softly  as  she  had  entered, 
when  the  sound  of  footsteps,  she  could  hardly  tell 
where,  made  her  pause  and  tremble.  To  be  found 
there,  even  by  a  servant,  would  be  unpleasant ;  but 
by  the  General  (and  he  seemed  always  at  hand 
when  least  wanted) ,  much  worse !  She  listened,  — 
the  sound  had  ceased;  and  resolving  not  to  lose  a 
moment,  she  passed  through  and  closed  the  door. 
At  that  instant  a  door  underneath  was  hastily 
opened;  some  one  seemed  with  swift  steps  to 
ascend  the  stairs,  by  the  head  of  which  she  had  yet 
to  pass  before  she  could  gain  the  gallerj^  She  had 
no  power  to  move.     With  a  feeling  of  terror  not 


236  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

very  definable,  she  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  staircase, 
and  in  a  few  moments  it  gave  Henry  to  her  view. 
*'Mr.  Tilney!"  she  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  more 
than  common  astonishment.  He  looked  astonished 
too.  "  Good  God !"  she  continued,  not  attending 
to  his  address,  *^how  came  you  here  ?  —  how  came 
you  up  that  staircase  ?  " 

^^How  came  T  up  that  staircase !"  he  replied, 
greatly  surprised.  ''  Because  it  is  my  nearest  way 
from  the  stable-yard  to  my  own  chamber;  and  why 
should  I  not  come  up  it  ?  " 

Catherine  recollected  herself,  blushed  deeply, 
and  could  say  no  more.  He  seemed  to  be  looking 
in  her  countenance  for  that  explanation  which  her 
lips  did  not  afford.  She  moved  on  towards  the 
gallery.  ^^And  may  I  not,  in  my  turn,"  said  he, 
as  he  pushed  back  the  folding-doors,  "  ask  how 
you  came  here  ?  This  passage  is  at  least  as  extra- 
ordinary a  road  from  the  breakfast-parlor  to  your 
apartment  as  that  staircase  can  be  from  the  stables 
to  mine." 

^'Ihave  been,"  said  Catherine,  looking  down, 
*'to  see  your  mother's  room." 

*^  My  mother's  room !  Is  there  anything  extraor- 
dinary to  be  seen  there  ?  " 

^^No,  nothing  at  all.  I  thought  you  did  not 
mean  to  come  back  till  to-morrow." 

^'I  did  not  expect  to  be  able  to  return  sooner, 
when  I  went  away ;  but  three  hours  ago  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  finding  nothing  to  detain  me.  You 
look  pale.  I  am  afraid  I  alarmed  you  by  running 
so  fast  up  those  stairs.  Perhaps  you  did  not  know 
—  you  Were  not  aware  of  their  leading  from  the 
offices  in 'common  use  ?  " 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  237 


*^No,  I  was  not.  You  have  had  a  very  fine  day 
for  your  ride.^' 

'^  Very;  and  does  Eleanor  leave  you  to  find  your 
way  into  all  the  rooms  in  the  house  by  yourself  ?  " 

^^  Oh,  no;  she  showed  me  over  the  greatest  part 
on  Saturday,  and  we  were  coming  here  to  these 
rooms,  but  only, 'Mropping  her  voice,  ^*your  father 
was  with  us." 

*^And  that  prevented  you,"  said  Henry,  ear- 
nestly regarding  her.  *'  Have  you  looked  into  all 
the  rooms  in  that  passage  ?  " 

^^ISTo;  I  only  wanted  to  see —  Is  not  it  very 
late  ?     I  must  go  and  dress." 

^'It  is  only  a  quarter  past  four,''  showing  his 
watch ;  ' '  and  you  are  not  now  in  Bath.  No  theatre, 
no  rooms  to  prepare  for.  Half  an  hour  at  North- 
anger  must  be  enough." 

She  could  not  contradict  it,  and  therefore  suffered 
herself  to  be  detained,  though  her  dread  of  further 
questions  made  her,  for  the  first  time  in  their 
acquaintance,  wish  to  leave  him.  They  walked 
slowly  up  the  gallery.  ^'  Have  you  had  any  letter 
from  Bath  since  I  saw  you  ?  " 

'*No,  and  I  am  very  much  surprised.  Isabella 
promised  so  faithfully  to  write  directly." 

''Promised  so  faithfully!  A  faithful  promise! 
That  puzzles  me.  I  have  heard  of  a  faithful  per- 
formance. But  a  faithful  promise,  —  the  fidelity 
of  promising  !  It  is  a  power  little  worth  knowing, 
however,  since  it  can  deceive  and  pain  you.  My 
mother's  room  is  very  commodious,  is  it  not  ? 
Large  and  cheerful-looking,  and  the  dressing- 
closets  so  well  disposed.     It  always  strikes  me  as 


238  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

the  most  comfortable  apartment  in  the  house;  and 
I  rather  wonder  that  Eleanor  should  not  take  it  for 
her  own.     She  sent  you  to  look  at  it,  I  suppose !  " 

^^No." 

**  It  has  been  your  own  doing  entirely  ?  '^ 
Catherine  said  nothing.  After  a  short  silence, 
during  which  he  had  closely  observed  her,  he 
added:  ''As  there  is  nothing  in  the  room  in  it- 
self to  raise  curiosity,  this  must,  have  proceeded 
from  a  sentiment  of  respect  for  my  mother's  char- 
acter, as  described  by  Eleanor,  which  does  honor 
to  her  memory.  The  world,  I  believe,  never  saw 
a  better  woman.  But  it  is  not  often  that  virtue 
can  boast  an  interest  such  as  this.  The  domestic, 
unpretending  merits  of  a  person  never  known,  do 
not  often  create  that  kind  of  fervent,  venerating 
tenderness  which  would  prompt  a  visit  like  yours. 
Eleanor,  I  suppose,  has  talked  of  her  a  great 
deal!" 

''Yes,  a  great  deal.  That  is  —  no,  not  much, 
but  what  she  did  say  was  very  interesting.  Her 
dying  so  suddenly,"  slowly,  and  with  hesitation 
it  was  spoken,  "and  you  —  none  of  you  being  at 
home ;  and  your  father,  I  thought,  perhaps  had  not 
been  very  fond  of  her." 

"And  from  these  circumstances,"  he  replied, 
his  quick  eye  fixed  on  hers,  "you  infer,  perhaps, 
the  probability  of  some  negligence  —  some  —  " 
(involuntarily  she  shook  her  head),  "or  it  may 
be,  of  something  still  less  pardonable."  She 
raised  her  eyes  towards  him  more  fully  than  she 
had  ever  done  before.  "  M}^  mother's  illness,"  he 
continued,  "the  seizure  which  ended  in  her  death, 


NOHTHANGER  ABBEY.  239 

was  sudden.  The  malady  itself  one  from  which 
she  had  often  suffered, — a  bilious  fever;  its 
cause  therefore  constitutional.  On  the  third  day, 
in  short  as  soon  as  she  could  be  prevailed  on,  a 
physician  attended  her,  —  a  very  respectable  man, 
and  one  in  whom  she  had  always  placed  great 
confidence.  Upon  his  opinion  of  her  danger,  two 
others  were  called  in  the  next  day,  and  remained 
in  almost  constant  attendance  for  four-and-twenty 
hours.  On  the  fifth  day  she  died.  During  the 
progress  of  her  disorder  Frederick  and  I  (we  were 
both  at  home)  saw  her  repeatedly;  and  from  our 
own  observation  can  bear  witness  to  her  having 
received  every  possible  attention  which  cou'd 
spring  from  the  affection  of  those  about  her,  or 
which  her  situation  in  life  could  command.  Poor 
Eleanor  was  absent,  and  at  such  a  distance  as  to 
return  only  to  see  her  mother  in  her  coffin.** 

''But  your  father,"  said  Catherine,  ''was  he 
afflicted?" 

"For  a  time  greatly  so.  You  have  erred  in 
supposing  him  not  attached  to  her.  He  loved  her, 
I  am  persuaded,  as  well  as  it  was  possible  for  him 
to —  We  have  not  all,  you  know,  the  same  ten- 
derness of  disposition;  and  I  will  not  pretend  to 
say  that  while  she  lived  she  might  not  often  have 
had  much  to  bear;  but  though  his  temper  injured 
her,  his  judgment  never  did.  His  value  of  her 
was  sincere ;  and  if  not  permanently,  he  was  truly 
afflicted  by  her  death." 

"I  am  very  glad  of  it,"  said  Catherine,*  "it 
would  have  been  very  shocking  —  " 

**  If  I  understand  you  rightly,  you  have  formed 


240  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

a  surmise  of  such  horror  as  I  have  hardly  words 
to  —  Dear  Miss  Morland,  consider  the  dreadful 
nature  of  the  suspicions  you  have  entertained. 
What  have  you  been  judging  from  ?  Remember 
the  country  and  the  age  in  which  we  live.  Re- 
member that  we  are  English,  that  we  are  Christians. 
Consult  your  own  understanding,  your  own  sense 
of  the  probable,  your  own  observation  of  what  is 
passing  around  you.  Does  our  education  prepare 
us  for  such  atrocities?  Do  our  laws  connive  at  them? 
Could  they  be  perpetrated  without  being  known, 
in  a  country  like  this,  where  social  and  literary 
intercourse  is  on  such  a  footing,  where  every  man 
is  surrounded  by  a  neighborhood  of  voluntary 
spies,  and  where  roads  and  newspapers  lay  every- 
thing open  ?  Dearest  Miss  Morland,  what  ideas 
have  you  been  admitting?" 

They  had  reached  the  end  of  the  gallery;  and 
with  tears  of  shame  she  ran  off  to  her  own  room. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  241 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  visions  of  romance  were  over.  Catherine  was 
completely  awakened.  Henry's  address,  short  as  it 
had  been,  had  more  thoroughly  opened  her  eyes  to 
the  extravagance  of  her  late  fancies  than  all  her 
several  disappointments  had  done.  Most  grievously 
was  she  humbled.  Most  bitterly  did  she  cr3\  It 
was  not  only  with  herself  that  she  was  sunk,  but 
with  Henry.  Her  folly,  which  now  seemed  even 
criminal,  was  all  exposed  to  him,  and  he  must  de- 
spise her  forever.  The  liberty  which  her  imagina- 
tion had  dared  to  take  with  the  character  of  his 
father,  could  he  ever  forgive  it?  The  absurdity  of 
her  curiosit}^  and  her  fears,  could  they  ever  be  for- 
gotten? She  hated  herself  more  than  she  could  ex- 
press. He  had  —  she  thought  he  had,  once  or  twice 
before  this  fatal  morning,  shown  something  like 
affection  for  her.  But  now  —  in  short,  she  made 
herself  as  miserable  as  possible  for  about  half  an 
hour,  went  down,  when  the  clock  struck  five,  with 
a  broken  heart,  and  could  scarcely  give  an  intelli- 
gible answer  to  Eleanor's  inquiry  if  she  was  well. 
The  formidable  Henry  soon  followed  her  into  the 
room,  and  the  only  difference  in  his  behavior  to 
her  was  that  he  paid  her  rather  more  attention 
than  usual.  Catherine  had  never  wanted  comfort 
more,  and  he  looked  as  if  he  was  aware  of  it. 
16 


242  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

The  evening  wore  away  with  no  abatement  of 
this  soothing  politeness;  and  her  spirits  were 
gradually  raised  to  a  modest  tranquillity.  She 
did  not  learn  either  to  forget  or  defend  the  past; 
but  she  learned  to  hope  that  it  would  never  tran- 
spire farther,  and  that  it  might  not  cost  her  Hen- 
^  ry's  entire  regard.  Her  thoughts  being  still  chiefly 
/  fixed  on  what  she  had  with  such  causeless  terror 
felt  and  done,  nothing  could  shortly  be  clearer 
than  that  it  had  been  all  a  voluntary,  self-created 
delusion,  each  trifling  circumstance  receiving  im- 
portance from  an  imagination  resolved  on  alarm, 
and  everything  forced  to  bend  to  one  purpose  by  a 
mind  which,  before  she  entered  the  Abbey,  had 
been  craving  to  be  frightened.  She  remembered 
with  what  feelings  she  had  prepared  for  a  know- 
ledge of  Northanger,  She  saw  that  the  infatuation 
had  been  created,  the  mischief  settled  long  before 
her  quitting  Bath,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole 
might  be  traced  to  the  influence  of  that  sort  of 
reading  which  she  had  there  indulged. 

Charming  as  were  all  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  works, 
and  charming  even  as  were  the  works  of  all  her 
imitators,  it  was  not  in  them,  perhaps,  that  human 
nature,  at  least  in  the  midland  counties  of  Eng- 
land, was  to  be  looked  for.  Of  the  Alps  and 
Pyrenees,  with  their  pine  forests  and  their  vices, 
they  might  give  a  faithful  delineation;  and  Italy, 
Switzerland,  and  the  south  of  France  might  be  as 
fruitful  in  horrors  as  they  were  there  represented. 
Catherine  dared  not  doubt  beyond  her  own  coun- 
try, and  even  of  that,  if  hard  pressed,  would  have 
yielded    the    northern    and   western    extremities. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  243 

But  in  the  central  part  of  England  there  was 
surely  some  security  for  the  existence  even  of  a 
wife  not  beloved,  in  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  the 
manners  of  the  age.  Murder  was  not  tolerated, 
servants  were  not  slaves,  and  neither  poison  nor 
sleeping  potions  to  be  procured,  like  rhubarb,  from 
every  druggist.  Among  the  Alps  and  Pyrenees, 
perhaps,  there  were  no  mixed  characters.  There, 
such  as  were  not  as  spotless  as  an  angel  might 
have  the  dispositions  of  a  fiend.  But  in  England 
it  was  not  so;  among  the  English,  she  believed, 
in  their  hearts  and  habits,  there  was  a  general 
though  unequal  mixture  of  good  and  bad.  Upon 
this  conviction,  she  would  not  be  surprised  if  even 
in  Henry  and  Eleanor  Tilney  some  slight  imper- 
fection might  hereafter  appear;  and  upon  this 
conviction  she  need  not  fear  to  acknowledge  some 
actual  specks  in  the  character  of  their  father,  who, 
though  cleared  from  the  grossly  injurious  sus- 
picions which  she  must  ever  blush  to  have  enter- 
tained, she  did  believe,  upon  serious  consideration, 
to  be  not  perfectly  amiable. 

Her  mind  made  up  on  these  several  points,  and 
her  resolution  formed,  of  always  judging  and  act- 
ing in  future  with  the  greatest  good  sense,  she  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  forgive  herself  and  be  hap- 
pier than  ever;  and  the  lenient  hand  of  time 
did  much  for  her  by  insensible  gradations  in  the 
course  of  another  day.  Henry's  astonishing  gen- 
erosity and  nobleness  of  conduct,  in  never  allud- 
ing in  the  slightest  way  to  what  had  passed,  was 
of  the  greatest  assistance  to  her;  and  sooner  than 
she  could  have  supposed  it  possible  in  the  begin- 


244        NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 

ning  of  her  distress,  her  spirits  became  absolutely 
comfortable,  and  capable,  as  heretofore,  of  contiimai 
improvement  by  anything  he  said.  There  were 
still  some  subjects,  indeed,  under  which  she  be- 
lieved they  must  always  tremble,  —  the  mention 
of  a  chest  or  a  cabinet,  for  instance,  and  she  did 
not  love  the  sight  of  japan  in  any  shape;  but  even 
she  could  allow  that  an  occasional  memento  of 
past  folly,  however  painful,  might  not  be  without 
use. 

The  anxieties  of  common  life  began  soon  to  suc- 
ceed to  the  alarms  of  romance.  Pier  desire  of  hear- 
ing from  Isabella  grew  every  day  greater.  She 
was  quite  impatient  to  know  how  the  Bath  world 
went  on,  and  how  the  Rooms  were  attended;  and 
especially  was  she  anxious  to  be  assured  of  Isa- 
bella's having  matched  some  fine  netting  cotton, 
on  which  she  had  left  her  intent;  and  of  her  con- 
tinuing on  the  best  terms  with  James.  Her  only 
dependence  for  information  of  any  kind  was  on 
Isabella.  James  had  protested  against  writing  to 
her  till  his  return  to  Oxford;  and  Mrs.  Allen  had 
given  her  no  hopes  of  a  letter  till  she  had  got 
back  to  Fullerton.  But  Isabella  had  promised  and 
promised  again;  and  when  she  promised  a  thing, 
she  was  so  scrupulous  in  performing  it!  This  made 
it  so  particularly  strange ! 

For  nine  successive  mornings  Catherine  won- 
dered over  the  repetition  of  a  disappointment 
which  each  morning  became  more  severe;  but  on 
the  tenth,  when  she  entered  the  breakfast-room, 
her  first  object  was  a  letter,  held  out  by  Henry's 
willing  hand.      She  thanked  him  as  heartily  as  if 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  245 

he  had  written  it  himself.  ^^'Tis  only  from 
James,  however/'  as  she  looked  at  the  direction. 
She  o^Dened  it:  it  was  from  Oxford;  and  to  this 
purpose :  — 

Dear  Catherine,  —  Though  God  knows,  with  little 
inclination  for  writing,  I  think  it  my  duty  to  tell  you 
that  everything  is  at  an  end  between  Miss  Thorpe  and 
me.  I  left  her  and  Bath  yesterday,  never  to  see  either 
again.  I  shall  not  enter  into  particulars,  they  would 
only  pain  you  more.  You  will  soon  hear  enough  from 
another  quarter  to  know  where  lies  the  blame ;  and  I 
hope  will  acquit  your  brother  of  everything  but  the  folly 
of  too  easily  thinking  his  affection  returned.  Thank 
God !  I  am  undeceived  in  time !  But  it  is  a  heavy  blow  ! 
After  my  father's  consent  had  been  so  kindly  given  — 
But  no  more  of  this.  She  has  made  me  miserable  for- 
ever 1  Let  me  soon  hear  from  you,  dear  Catherine  ;  you 
are  my  only  friend ;  your  love  I  do  build  upon.  I  wish 
your  visit  at  Northanger  may  be  over  before  Captain 
;  Tilney  makes  his  engagement  known,  or  you  will  be  un- 
j  comfortably  circumstanced.  Poor  Thorpe  is  in  town  : 
I  I  dread  the  sight  of  him  ;  his  honest  heart  would  feel  so 
I  much.  I  have  written  to  him  and  my  father.  Her  du- 
plicity hurts  me  more  than  all ;  till  the  very  last,  if  I 
reasoned  with  her,  she  declared  herself  as  much  attached 
to  me  as  ever  and  laughed  at  my  fears.  I  am  ashamed 
to  think  how  long  I  bore  with  it ;  but  if  ever  man  had 
reason  to  believe  himself  loved,  I  was  that  man.  I  can- 
not understand  even  now,  what  she  would  be  at,  for 
there  could  be  no  need  of  my  being  played  off  to  make 
her  secure  of  Tilney.  We  parted  at  last  by  mutual  con- 
sent —  happy  for  me  had  we  never  met !  I  can  never 
expect  to  know  such  another  woman !  Dearest  Cathe- 
rine, beware  how  you  give  your  heart. 
Beheve  me,  etc. 


246  NORTHANGEIl  ABBEY. 

Catherine  had  not  read  three  lines  before  her 
sudden  change  of  countenance,  and  short  exclama- 
tions of  sorrowing  wonder  declared  her  to  be  re- 
ceiving unpleasant  news;  and  Henry,  earnestly 
watching  her  through  the  whole  letter,  saw  plainly 
that  it  ended  no  better  than  it  began.  He  was 
prevented,  however,  from  even  looking  his  surprise 
by  his  father's  entrance.  They  went  to  breakfast 
directly;  but  Catherine  could  hardly  eat  anything. 
Tears  filled  her  eyes,  and  even  ran  down  her 
cheeks  as  she  sat.  The  letter  was  one  moment  in 
her  hand,  then  in  her  lap,  and  then  in  her  pocket; 
and  she  looked  as  if  she  knew  not  what  she  did. 
The  General,  between  his  cocoa  and  his  newspaper, 
had  luckily  no  leisure  for  noticing  her;  but  to  the 
other  two  her  distress  was  equally  visible.  As 
soon  as  she  dared  leave  the  table,  she  hurried 
away  to  her  own  room;  but  the  housemaids  were 
busy  in  it,  and  she  was  obliged  to  come  down 
again.  She  turned  into  the  drawing-room  for 
privacy;  but  Henry  and  Eleanor  had  likewise  re- 
treated thither,  and  were  at  that  moment  deep  in 
consultation  about  her.  She  drew  back,  trying  to 
beg  their  pardon,  but  was,  with  gentle  violence, 
forced  to  return;  and  the  others  withdrew,  after 
Eleanor  had  affectionately  expressed  a  wish  of 
being  of   use  or  comfort  to  her. 

After  half  an  hour's  free  indulgence  of  grief  and 
reflection,  Catherine  felt  equal  to  encountering  her 
friends ;  but  whether  she  should  make  her  distress 
known  to  them  was  another  consideration.  Per- 
haps, if  particularly  questioned,  she  might  just 
give  an  idea  —  just  distantly  hint  at  it  —  but  not 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  247 

more.  To  expose  a  friend,  such  a  friend  as  Isa- 
bella had  been  to  her  —  and  then  their  own  brother 
so  closely  concerned  in  it !  She  believed  she  must 
waive  the  subject  altogether.  Henry  and  Eleanor 
were  by  themselves  in  the  breakfast-room;  and 
each,  as  she  entered  it,  looked  at  her  anxiously. 
Catherine  took  her  place  at  the  table,  and  after  a 
short  silence  Eleanor  said:  ''No  bad  news  from 
Eullerton,  I  hope?  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morland  — 
your  brothers  and  sisters  —  I  hope  they  are  none 
of  them   ill?" 

''No,  I  thank  you,"  sighing  as  she  spoke; 
"  they  are  all  very  well.  My  letter  was  from  my 
brother  at  Oxford." 

Nothing  further  was  said  for  a  few  minutes ;  and 
then,  speaking  through  her  tears,  she  added,  "I 
do  not  think  I  shall  ever  wish  for  a  letter  again!  " 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Henry,  closing  the  book 
he  had  just  opened;  "  if  I  had  suspected  the  letter 
of  containing  anything  unwelcome,  I  should  have 
given  it  with  very  different  feelings." 

"  It  contained  something  worse  than  anybody 
could  suppose !  Poor  James  is  so  unhappy !  You 
will  soon  know  why." 

"To  have  so  kind-hearted,  so  affectionate  a 
sister,"  replied  Henry,  warmly,  "must  be  a  com- 
fort to  him  under  any  distress." 

"I  have  one  favor  to  beg,"  said  Catherine, 
shortly  afterwards,  in  an  agitated  manner,  "that 
if  your  brother  should  be  coming  here,  you  will 
give  me  notice  of  it,  that  I  may  go  away." 

' '  Our  brother !     Frederick !  " 

"  Yes;  I  am  sure  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  leave 


248  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

you  so  soon,  but  something  has  happened  that 
would  make  it  very  dreadful  for  me  to  be  in  the 
same  house  with  Captain  Tilney.'' 

Eleanor's  work  was  suspended  while  she  gazed 
with  increasing  astonishment;  but  Henry  began  to 
suspect  the  truth,  and  something,  in  which  Miss 
Thorpe's  name  was  included,  j)assed  his  lips. 

''How  quick  you  are!  "  cried  Catherine:  ''you 
have  guessed  it,  I  declare!  And  yet,  when  we 
talked  about  it  in  Bath,  you  little  thought  of  its 
ending  so.  Isabella  —  no  wonder  now  I  have  not 
heard  from  her  —  Isabella  has  deserted  my  brother 
and  is  to  marry  yours !  Could  you  have  believed 
there  had  been  such  inconstancy,  and  fickleness, 
and  everything  that  is  bad  in  the  world?  " 

"  I  hope,  so  far  as  concerns  my  brother,  you  are 
misinformed.  I  hope  he  has  not  had  any  material 
share  in  bringing  on  Mr.  Morland's  disappoint- 
ment. His  marrying  Miss  Thorpe  is  not  probable. 
I  think  you  must  be  deceived  so  far.  I  am  very 
sorry  for  Mr.  Morland,  —  sorry  that  any  one  you 
love  should  be  unhappy ;  but  my  surprise  would  be 
greater  at  Frederick's  marrying  her  than  at  any 
other  part  of  the   stor3\" 

"It  is  very  true,  however;  you  shall  read 
James's  letter  yourself.  Stay  —  there  is  one 
part  —  "  recollecting,  with  a  blush,  the  last  line. 

"  Will  you  take  the  trouble  of  reading  to  us  the 
passages  which  concern  my  brother?  " 

"No,  read  it  yourself,"  cried  Catherine,  whose 
second  thoughts  were  clearer.  "  I  do  not  know  what 
I  was  thinking  of,"  blushing  again  that  she  had 
blushed  before,  —  "James  only  means  to  give  me 
good  advice." 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  249 

He  gladly  received  the  letter;  and  having  read 
it  through  with  close  attention,  returned  it,  saying : 
*^Well,  if  it  is  to  be  so,  I  can  only  say  that  I  am 
sorry  for  it.  Frederick  will  not  be  the  first  man 
who  has  chosen  a  wife  with  less  sense  than  his 
family  expected.  I  do  not  envy  his  situation, 
either  as  a  lover  or  a   son." 

Miss  Tilney,  at  Catherine's  invitation,  now  read 
the  letter  likewise ;  and  having  expressed  also  her 
concern  and  surprise,  began  to  inquire  into  Miss 
Thorpe's  connections  and  fortune. 

*^Her  mother  is  a  very  good  sort  of  woman," 
was  Catherine's  answer. 

^^What  was  her  father?  " 

'^  A  lawyer,  I  believe.     They  live  at  Putney." 

*'  Are  they  a  wealthy  family  ?  " 

*'N"o,  not  very.  I  do  not  believe  Isabella  has 
any  fortune  at  all;  but  that  will  not  signify  in 
your  family.  Your  father  is  so  very  liberal  !  He 
told  me  the  other  day  that  he  only  valued  money 
as  it  allowed  him  to  promote  the  happiness  of  his 
children."  The  brother  and  sister  looked  at  each 
other.  ''  But,"  said  Eleanor,  after  a  short  pause, 
'*  would  it  be  to  promote  his  happiness  to  enable 
him  to  marry  such  a  girl  ?  She  must  be  an  un- 
principled one,  or  she  could  not  have  used  your 
brother  so.  And  how  strange  an  infatuation  on 
Frederick's  side  !  A  girl  who,  before  his  eyes,  is 
violating  an  engagement  voluntarily  entered  into 
with  another  man  !  Is  not  it  inconceivable, 
Henry?  Frederick,  too,  who  always  wore  his  heart 
so  proudly,  who  found  no  woman  good  enough  to 
be  loved  !  " 


250  NOllTHANGER  ABBEY. 

^'Tliat  is  the  most  unpromising  circumstance, 
the  strongest  presumption  against  him.  When  I 
think  of  his  past  declarations,  I  give  him  up. 
Moreover,  I  have  too  good  an  opinion  of  Miss 
Thorpe's  prudence,  to  suppose  that  she  would  part 
with  one  gentleman  before  the  other  was  secured. 
It  is  all  over  with  Frederick,  indeed  !  He  is  a 
deceased  man,  —  defunct  in  understanding.  Pre- 
pare for  your  sister-in-law,  Eleanor,  and  such  a 
sister-in-law  as  you  must  delight  in  !  Open,  can- 
did, artless,  guileless,  with  affections  strong  but 
simple,  forming  no  pretensions,  and  knowing  no 
disguise." 

**'Such  a  sister-in-law,  Henry,  I  should  delight 
in,"  said  Eleanor,  with  a  smile. 

*^But,  perhaps,"  observed  Catherine,  ^^ though 
she  has  behaved  so  ill  by  our  family,  she  may  be- 
have better  by  yours.  Now  she  has  really  got  the 
man  she  likes,  she  may  be  constant." 

''  Indeed,  I  am  afraid  she  will,"  replied  Henry; 
^^I  am  afraid  she  will  be  very  constant,  unless  a 
baronet  should  come  in  her  way;  that  is  Frederick's 
only  chance.  I  will  get  the  Bath  paper,  and  look 
over  the  arrivals." 

*'  You  think  it  is  all  for  ambition,  then  ?  And 
*  Upou  my  word,  there  are  some  things  that  seem 
very  like  it.  I  cannot  forget  that  when  she  first 
knew  what  my  father  would  do  for  them,  she 
seemed  quite  disappointed  that  it  was  not  more. 
I  never  was  so  deceived  in  any  one's  character  in 
my  life  before." 

"  Among  all  the  great  variety  that  you  have 
known  and  studied." 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  251 

*^My  own  disappointment  and  loss  in  her  is 
very  great;  but  as  for  poor  James,  I  suppose  lie 
will  hardly  ever  recover  it." 

^^  Your  brother  is  certainly  very  much  to  be 
pitied  at  present ;  but  we  must  not,  in  our  concern 
for  his  sufferings,  undervalue  yours.  You  feel,  I 
suppose,  that  in  losing  Isabella,  you  lose  half 
yourself;  you  feel  a  void  in  your  heart  which  noth- 
ing else  can  occupy.  Society  is  becoming  irksome, 
and  aa>  for  the  amusements  in  which  jou.  were  wont 
to  share  at  Bath,  the  very  idea  of  them  without 
her  is  abhorrent.  You  would  not,  for  instance, 
now  go  to  a  ball  for  the  world.  You  feel  that  you 
have  no  longer  any  friend  to  whom  you  can  speak 
with  unreserve;  on  whose  regard  you  can  place  de- 
pendence ;  or  whose  counsel,  in  any  difficult}^,  you 
could  rely  on.     You  feel  all  this  ?  " 

^*No,''  said  Catherine,  after  a  few  moments'  re- 
flection, **I  do  not  —  ought  I  ?  To  say  the  truth, 
though  I  am  hurt  and  grieved  that  I  cannot  still 
love  her,  that  I  am  never  to  hear  from  her,  perhaps 
never  to  see  her  again,  I  do  not  feel  so  very,  very 
much  afflicted  as  one  would  have  thought.'' 

**You  feel,  as  you  always  do,  what  is  most  to 
the  credit  of  human  nature.      Such  feelings  ought 
to   be    investigated,    that   they   may  know   them-* 
selves." 

Catherine,  by  some  chance  or  other,  found  her 
spirits  so  very  much  relieved  by  this  conversation, 
that  she  could  not  regret  her  being  led  on,  though 
so  unaccountably,  to  mention  the  circumstance 
which  had  produced  it. 


252  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTEK  XXVI. 

"From  this  time,  the  subject  was  frequently  can- 
vassed by  the  three  young  people;  and  Catherine 
found,  with  some  surprise,  that  her  two  young 
friends  were  perfectly  agreed  in  considering  Isa- 
bella's want  of  consequence  and  fortune  as  likely 
to  throw  great  difficulties  in  the  way  of  her  marry- 
ing their  brother.  Their  persuasion  that  the 
General  would,  upon  this  ground  alone,  indepen- 
dent of  the  objection  that  might  be  raised  against 
her  character,  oppose  the  connection,  turned  her 
feelings,  moreover,  with  some  alarm  towards  her- 
self. She  was  as  insignificant  and  perhaps  as 
portionless  as  Isabella;  and  if  the  heir  of  the  Til- 
ney  property  had  not  grandeur  and  wealth  enough 
in  himself,  at  what  point  of  interest  were  the  de- 
mands of  his  younger  brother  to  rest  ?  The  very 
painful  reflections  to  which  this  thought  led  could 
only  be  dispersed  by  a  dependence  on  the  effect  of 
that  particular  partiality  which,  as  she  was  given 
to  understand  by  his  words  as  well  as  his  actions, 
she  had  from  the  first  been  so  fortunate  as  to  ex- 
cite in  the  General;  and  by  a  recollection  of  some 
most  generous  and  disinterested  sentiments  on  the 
subject  of  money,  which  she  had  more  than  once 
heard  him  utter,  and  which  tempted  her  to  think 
his  disposition  in  such  matters  misunderstood  by 
his  children. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  253 

They  were  so  fully  convinced,  however,  that 
their  brother  would  not  have  the  courage  to  apply 
in  person  for  his  father's  consent,  and  so  repeat- 
edly assured  her  that  he  had  never  in  his  life  been 
less  likely  to  come  to  North  anger  than  at  the  pres- 
ent time,  that  she  suffered  her  mind  to  be  at  ease 
as  to  the  necessity  of  any  sudden  removal  of  her 
own.  But  as  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  Captain 
Tilney,  whenever  he  made  his  application,  would 
give  his  father  any  just  idea  of  Isabella's  conduct, 
it  occurred  to  her  as  highly  expedient  that  Henry 
should  lay  the  whole  business  before  him  as  it 
really  was,  enabling  the  General  by  that  means  to 
form  a  cool  and  impartial  opinion,  and  prepare  his 
objections  on  a  fairer  ground  than  inequality  of 
situations.  She  proposed  it  to  him  accordingly; 
but  he  did  not  catch  at  the  measure  so  eagerly  as 
she  had  expected.  ^^No,''  said  he;  *^  my  father's 
hands  need  not  be  strengthened,  and  Frederick's 
confession  of  folly  need  not  be  forestalled.  He 
must  tell  his  own  story." 

^^But  he  will  tell  only  half  of  it.*' 

**A  quarter  would  be  enough." 

A  day  or  two  passed  away,  and  brought  no  tid- 
ings of   Captain  Tilney.     His  brother  and  sister, 
knew  not  what  to  think.     Sometimes  it  appeared 
to  them  as  if  his  silence  would  be  the  n?-^""-'' 
suit  of   the  suspected  engascf" 
that  it   was    wholly    inc 
General,  meanwhile, 
ing  by  Frederick'^ 
from  any  real  "'" 
pressing  soli 


254  NORTHANGER  ABBEr. 

land's  time  at  Northanger  pass  pleasantly.  He 
often  expressed  his  uneasiness  on  this  head,  feared 
the  sameness  of  every  day's  society  and  employ- 
ments would  disgust  her  with  the  place,  wished 
the  Lady  Erasers  had  been  in  the  country,  talked 
every  now  and  then  of  having  a  large  party  to 
dinner,  and  once  or  twice  began  even  to  calculate 
the  number  of  young  dancing  people  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. But  then  it  was  such  a  dead  time  of 
year,  no  wild-fowl,  no  game,  and  the  Lady  Erasers 
were  not  in  the  country.  And  it  all  ended,  at  last, 
in  his  telling  Henry,  one  morning,  that  when  he 
next  went  to  Woodston,  they  would  take  him  by 
surprise  there  some  day  or  other,  and  eat  their 
mutton  with  him.  Henry  was  greatly  honored 
and  very  happy,  and  Catherine  was  quite  delighted 
with  the  scheme.  ^^  And  when  do  you  think,  sir, 
I  may  look  forward  to  this  pleasure  ?  I  must  be 
at  Woodston  on  Monday  to  attend  the  parish  meet- 
ing, and  shall  probably  be  obliged  to  stay  two  or 
three  days." 

'*  Well,  well,  we  will  take  our  chance  some  one 
of  those  days.     There  is  no  need  to  fix.     You  are 
not  to  put  yourself  at  all  out  of  your  way.     What- 
ever you  may  happen  to  have  in  the  house  will  be 
nough.     I   think    I    can   answer   for   the   young 
oVing   allowance   for   a   bachelor's  table, 
will  be  a  busy  day  with  you, 
nday;  and  Tuesday  will 
expect   my  surveyor 
in  the  morning; 
-   fa^l  attending 
acquaintance 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  255 

if  I  stayed  away  now;  for,  as  I  am  known  to  be 
in  the  country,  it  would  be  taken  exceedingly 
amiss;  and  it  is  a  rule  with  me.  Miss  Morland, 
never  to  give  offence  to  any  of  my  neighbors,  if  a 
small  sacrifice  of  time  and  attention  can  prevent  it. 
They  are  a  set  of  very  worthy  men.  They  have  half 
a  buck  from  Nor  than  ger  twice  a  year;  and  I  dine 
with  them  whenever  I  can.  Tuesday,  therefore,  we 
may  say,  is  out  of  the  question.  But  on  Wednes- 
day, I  think,  Henry,  you  may  expect  us;  and  we 
shall  be  with  you  early,  that  we  may  have  time  to 
look  about  us.  Two  hours  and  three  quarters  will 
carry  us  to  Woodston,  I  suppose:  we  shall  be  in 
the  carriage  by  ten;  so,  about  a  quarter  before  one 
on  Wednesday,  you  may  look  for  us." 

A  ball  itself  could  not  have  been  more  welcome 
to  Catherine  than  this  little  excursion,  so  strong 
was  her  desire  to  be  acquainted  with  Woodston; 
and  her  heart  was  still  bounding  with  joy,  when 
Henry,  about  an  hour  afterwards,  came  booted  and 
great-coated  into  the  room  where  she  and  Eleanor 
were  sitting,  and  said:  ''I  am  come,  young  ladies, 
in  a  very  moralizing  strain,  to  observe  that  our 
pleasures  in  this  world  are  always  to  be  paid  for, 
and  that  we  often  purchase  them  at  a  great  disad- 
vantage, giving  ready-moneyed  actual  happiness  for 
a  draft  on  the  future  that  may  not  be  honored. 
Witness  myself  at  this  present  hour.  Because  I 
am  to  hope  for  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  you  at 
Woodston  on  Wednesday,  which  bad  weather  or 
twenty  other  causes  may  prevent,  I  must  go  away 
directly,  two  days  before  I  intended  it.'' 

"Go  away!''  said  Catherine,  with  a  very  long 
face;    ^'and  why?" 


256  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

*'Why!  How  can  you  ask  the  question?  Be- 
cause no  time  is  to  be  lost  in  frightening  my  old 
housekeeper  out  of  her  wits,  because  I  must  go 
and  prepare  a  dinner  for  you,  to  be  sure/' 

^*0h!  not  seriously! '^ 

**Ay,  and  sadly  too,  — for  I  had  much  rather 
stay. " 

'^But  how  can  you  think  of  such  a  thing  after 
what  the  Greneral  said?  —  when  he  so  particularly 
desired  you  not  to  give  yourself  any  trouble,  be- 
cause anything  would  do.'' 

Henry  only  smiled.  "  I  am  sure  it  is  quite  un- 
necessary upon  your  sister's  account  and  mine. 
You  must  know  it  to  be  so ;  and  the  General  madk5 
such  a  point  of  your  providing  nothing  extraordi- 
nary :  besides,  if  he  had  not  said  half  so  much  as 
he  did,  he  has  always  such  an  excellent  dinner  at 
home,  that  sitting  down  to  a  middling  one  for  one 
day  could  not  signify." 

''1  wish  I  could  reason  like  you,  for  his  sake 
and  my  own.  Good-by.  As  to-morrow  is  Sunday, 
Eleanor,  I  shall  not  return." 

He  went;  and  it  being  at  any  time  a  much  sim- 
pler operation  to  Catherine  to  doubt  her  own  judg- 
ment than  Henry's,  she  was  very  soon  obliged  to 
give  him  credit  for  being  right,  however  disagree- 
able to  her  his  going.  But  the  inexplicability  of 
the  General's  conduct  dwelt  much  on  her  thoughts. 
That  he  was  very  particular  in  his  eating,  she  had, 
by  her  own  unassisted  observation,  already  dis- 
covered; but  why  he  should  say  one  thing  so  posi- 
tively, and  mean  another  all  the  while,  was  most 
unaccountable!     How  were  people,  at  that  rate^  to 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  257 

be  understood?  Who  but  Henry  could  have  been 
aware  of  what  his  father  was  at? 

From  Saturday  to  Wednesday,  however,  they 
were  now  to  be  without  Henry.  This  was  the  sad 
finale  of  every  reflection :  and  Captain  Tilney's 
letter  would  certainly  come  in  his  absence;  and 
Wednesday,  she  was  very  sure,  would  be  wet. 
The  past,  present,  and  future  were  all  equally  in 
gloom.  Her  brother  so  unhappy,  and  her  loss  in 
Isabella  so  great;  and  Eleanor's  spirits  always 
affected  by  Henry's  absence!  What  was  there  to 
interest  or  amuse  her?  She  was  tired  of  the  woods 
and  the  shrubberies,  —  always  so  smooth  and  so 
dry;  and  the  Abbey  in  itself  was  no  more  to  her 
now  than  any  other  house.  The  painful  remem- 
brance of  the  folly  it  had  helped  to  nourish  and 
perfect  was  the  only  emotion  which  could  spring 
from  "a  consideration  of  the  building.  What  a  rev- 
olution in  her  ideas! — she,  who  had  so  longed  to  be 
in  an  abbey!  Now,  there  was  nothing  so  charm- 
ing to  her  imagination  as  the  unpretending  comfort 
of  a  well-connected  parsonage,  —  something  like 
Fullerton,  but  better :  Fullerton  had  its  faults,  but 
Woodston  probably  had  none.  If  Wednesday 
should  ever  come! 

It  did  come,  and  exactly  when  it  might  be  rea- 
sonably looked  for.  It  came,  —  it  was  fine,  and 
Catherine  trod  on  air.  By  ten  o'clock  the  chaise- 
and-four  conveyed  the  two  from  the  Abbey;  and 
after  an  agreeable  drive  of  almost  twenty  miles, 
they  entered  Woodston,  a  large  and  populous  vil^ 
lage,  in  a  situation  not  unpleasant.  Catherine 
was  ashamed  to  say  how  pretty  she  thought  it,  as 
17 


258  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

the  General  seemed  to  think  an  apology  necessary 
•  for  the  flatness  of  the  country  and  the  size  of  the 
village ;  but  in  her  heart  she  preferred  it  to  any 
place  she  had  ever  been  at,  and  looked  with  great 
admiration  at  every  neat  house  above  the  rank  of  a 
cottage,  and  at  all  the  little  chandler's  shops  which 
they  passed.  At  the  further  end  of  the  village, 
and  tolerably  disengaged  from  the  rest  of  it,  stood 
the  Parsonage,  a  new-built,  substantial^  stone 
house,  with  its  semicircular  sweep  and  green  gates ; 
and  as  they  drove  up  to  the  door,  Henry,  with  the 
friends  of  his  solitude,  a  large  Newfoundland 
puppy  and  two  or  three  terriers,  was  ready  to  re- 
ceive and  make  much  of  them. 

Catherine's  mind  was  too  full,  as  she  entered 
the  house,  for  her  either  to  observe  or  to  say  a 
great  deal;  and  till  called  on  by  the  General  for 
her  opinion  of  it,  she  had  very  little  idea  of  the 
room  in  which  she  was  sitting.  Upon  looking 
round  it  then,  she  perceived  in  a  moment  that  it 
was  the  most  comfortable  room  in  the  world;  but 
she  was  too  guarded  to  say  so,  and  the  coldness 
of  her  praise  disappointed  him. 

^^  We  are  not  calling  it  a  good  house,"  said  he. 
'^We  are  not  comparing  it  with  Fullerton  and 
Northanger.  We  are  considering  it  as  a  mere 
parsonage,  small  and  confined,  we  allow,  but  de- 
cent, perhaps,  and  habitable,  and  altogether  not 
inferior  to  the  generality;  or  in  other  words,  I 
believe  there  are  few  country  parsonages  in  Eng- 
land half  so  good.  It  may  admit  of  improvement, 
however.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  say  otherwise; 
and  anything  in  reason  —  a  bow  thrown  out,  per- 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  259 

haps  —  though,  between  ourselves,  if  there  is  one 
thing  more  than  another  my  aversion,  it  is  a 
;patchecl-on  bow." 

Catherine  did  not  hear  enough  of  this  speech  to 
understand  or  be  pained  by  it;  and  other  subjects 
being  studiously  brought  forward  and  supported  by 
Henry,  at  the  same  time  that  a  tray  full  of  refresh- 
jments  was  introduced  by  his  servant,  the  General 
J  was  shortly  restored  to  his  complacency,  and  Cath- 
j  erine  to  all  her  usual  ease  of  spirits. 
I      The  room  in  question  was  of  a  commodious,  well- 
j  proportioned  size,  and  handsomely  fitted  up  as  a 
idining-parlor;    and  on  their   quitting   it  to  walk 
i  round  the   grounds,    she  was   shown,   first   into  a 
I  smaller    apartment,    belonging    peculiarly   to   the 
'  master  of  the  house,  and  made  unusually  tidy  on 
i  the  occasion;    and  afterwards  into  what  was  to  be 
I  the  drawing-room,  with  the  appearance  of  which, 
though     unfurnished,     Catherine     was     delighted 
enough  even  to  satisfy  the  General.     It  was  a  pret- 
tily shaped  room,    the    windows    reaching  to   the 
ground,  and  the  view  from  them  pleasant,  though 
only  over  green  meadows;   and  she  expressed  her 
admiration  at  the  moment  with  all  the  hotiest  sim- 
iplicity  with  which  she  felt  it.      ^^Oh,  why  do  not 
you  fit  up  this  room,  Mr.  Tilney  ?    What  a  pity 
not  to  have  it  fitted  up !     It  is  the  prettiest  room  I 
ever  saw;  — it  is  the  prettiest  room  in  the  world!  " 
"1  trust,''  said  the  General,  with  a  most  satis- 
fied  smile,    ^'  that    it   will  very  speedily  be  fur- 
nished: it  waits  only  for  a  lady's  taste.'' 

^'Well,  if  it  was  my  house,  I  should  never  sit 
anywhere  else.      Oh,  what  a  sweet  little  cottage 


260  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

there  is  among  the  trees, — apple-trees  too!     It  is 
the  prettiest  cottage  —  ^' 

"You  like  it, — you  approve  it  as  an  object; 
it  is  enough.  Henry,  remember  that  Robinson  is 
spoken  to  about  it.     The  cottage  remains.'' 

Such  a  compliment  recalled  all  Catherine's  con- 
sciousness, and  silenced  her  directly;  and  though 
pointedly  applied  to  by  the  General  for  her  choice 
of  the  prevailing  color  of  the  paper  and  hangings, 
nothing  like  an  opinion  on  the  subject  could  be 
drawn  from  her.  The  influence  of  fresh  objects 
and  fresh  air,  however,  was  of  great  use  in  dissi- 
pating these  embarrassing  associations;  and  having 
reached  the  ornamental  part  of  the  premises,  con- 
sisting of  a  walk  round  two  sides  of  a  meadow,  on 
which  Henry's  genius  had  begun  to  act  about  half 
a  year  ago,  she  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  think 
it  prettier  than  any  pleasure-ground  she  had  ever 
been  in  before,  though  there  was  not  a  shrub  in  it 
higher  than  the  green  bench  in  the  corner. 

A  saunter  into  other  meadows,  and  through 
part  of  the  village,  with  a  visit  to  the  stables  to 
examine  some  improvements,  and  a  charming  game 
of  play  with  a  litter  of  puppies  just  able  to  roll 
about,  brought  them  to  four  o'clock,  when  Cathe- 
rine scarcely  thought  it  could  be  three.  At  four 
they  were  to  dine,  and  at  six  to  set  off  on  their 
return.     Never  had  any  day  passed  so  quickly! 

She  could  not  but  observe  that  the  abundance  of 
the  dinner  did  not  seem  to  create  the  smallest 
astonishment  in  the  General;  nay,  that  he  was 
even  looking  at  the  side-table  for  cold  meat  which 
was    not  there.     His  son  and  daughter's  observa- 


J 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  261 

tions  were  of  a  different  kind.  They  had  seldom 
seen  him  eat  so  heartily  at  any  table  but  his  own, 
and  never  before  known  him  so  little  disconcerted 
by  the  melted  butter's  being  oiled. 

At  six  o'clock,  the  General  having  taken  his 
coffee,  the  carriage  again  received  them;  and  so 
gratifying  had  been  the  tenor  of  his  conduct 
throughout  the  whole  visit,  so  well  assured  was 
her  mind  on  the  subject  of  his  expectations,  that, 
could  she  have  felt  equally  confident  of  the  wishes 
of  his  son,  Catherine  would  have  quitted  Woodstou 
with  little  anxiety  as  to  the  how  or  the  when  she 
might  return  to  it. 


262  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  next   morning   brought    the   following  very 
unexpected  letter  from  Isabella :  — 

Bath,  April, — . 
My  dearest  Catherine,  —  I  received  your  two  kind 
letters  with  the  greatest  delight,  and  have  a  thousand 
apologies  to  make  for  not  answering  them  sooner.  I 
really  am  quite  ashamed  of  my  idleness ;  but  in  this 
horrid  olace  one  can  find  time  for  nothing.  I  have  had 
my  pen  in  my  hand  to  begin  a  letter  to  you  almost  every 
day  since  you  left  Bath,  but  have  always  been  prevented 
by  some  silly  trifler  or  other.  Pray  write  to  me  soon, 
and  direct  to  my  own  home.  Thank  God  !  we  leave  this 
vile  place  to-morrow.  Since  you  went  away,  I  have  had  no 
pleasure  in  it,  —  the  dust  is  beyond  anything,  and  every- 
body one  cares  for  is  gone.  I  believe  if  I  could  see  you  I 
should  not  mind  the  rest,  for  you  are  dearer  to  me  than 
anybody  can  conceive.  I  am  quite  uneasy  about  your 
dear  brother,  not  having  heard  from  him  since  he  went 
to  Oxford;  and  am  fearful  of  some  misunderstanding. 
Your  kind  offices  will  set  all  right :  he  is  the  only  man  1 
ever  did  or  could  love,  and  I  trust  you  will  convince  him 
of  it.  The  spring  fashions  are  partly  down,  and  the  hats 
the  most  frightful  you  can  imagine.  I  hope  you  spend 
your  time  pleasantly,  but  am  afraid  you  never  think  of 
me.  I  will  not  say  all  that  I  could  of  the  family  you  are 
with,  because  I  would  not  be  ungenerous,  or  set  you 
against  those  you  esteem ;  but  it  is  very  difficult  to  know 
whom  to  trust,  and  young  men  never  know  their  minds 
two  days  together.     1  rejoice  to  say  that  the  young  man 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  263 

whom,  of  all  others,  I  particularly  abhor,  has  left  Bath. 
You  will  know  from  this  description  I  must  mean 
Captain  Tilney,  who,  as  you  may  remember,  was  amaz- 
ingly disposed  to  follow  and  tease  me,  before  you  went 
away.  Afterwards  he  got  worse,  and  became  quite  my 
shadow.  Many  girls  might  have  been  taken  in,  for  never 
were  such  attentions ;  but  I  knew  the  fickle  sex  too  well. 
He  went  away  to  his  regiment  two  days  ago,  and  I  trust 
I  shall  never  be  plagued  with  him  again.  He  is  the 
greatest  coxcomb  I  ever  saw,  and  amazingly  disagreeable. 
The  last  two  days  he  was  always  by  the  side  of  Charlotte 
Davis  :  I  pitied  his  taste,  but  took  no  notice  of  him.  The 
last  time  we  met  was  in  Bath  Street,  and  I  turned 
directly  into  a  shop  that  he  might  not  speak  to  me;  I 
would  not  even  look  at  him.  He  went  into  the  Pump- 
room  afterwards,  but  I  would  not  have  followed  him  for 
I  all  the  world.     Such  a  contrast  between  him  and  your 

I  brother  1  Pray  send  me  some  news  of  the  latter.  I  am 
quite  unhappy  about  him,  he  seemed  so  uncomfortable 
when  he  went  away,   with  a  cold,  or  something  that  af- 

\  fected  his  spirits.     I  would  write  to  him  myself,  but  have 

II  mislaid  his  direction  ;  and,  as  I  hinted  above,  am  afraid 
j:  he  took  something  in  my  conduct  amiss.  Pray  explain 
I  everything  to  his  satisfaction ;  or  if  he  still  harbors  any 
j  doubt,  a  line  from  himself  to  me,  or  a  call  at  Putney 
liwhen  next  in  town,  might  set  all  to  rights.     I  have  not 

been  to  the  Rooms  this  age,  nor  to  the  play,  except  going 
I  in  last  night  with  the  Hod^eses,  for  a  frolic,  at  half-price  : 
they  teased  me  into  it,  and  I  was  determined  they  should 
not  say  I  shut  myself  up  because  Tilney  was  gone.  We 
happened  to  sit  by  the  Mitchells,  and  they  pretended  to 
be  quite  surprised  to  see  me  out.  I  knew  their  spite  :  at 
one  time  they  could  not  be  civil  to  me,  but  now  they  are 
all  friendship  ;  but  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  be  taken  in 
by  them.  You  know  I  have  a  pretty  good  spirit  of  my 
lown.  Anne  Mitchell  had  tried  to  put  on  a  turban  like 
mine,  as  I  wore  it  the  week  before  at  the  Concert,  but 


264  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

made  wretched  work  of  it.  It  happened  to  become  my 
odd  face,  I  believe,  —  at  least  Tilney  told  me  so  at  the 
time,  and  said  every  eye  was  upon  me;  but  he  is  the  last 
man  whose  word  I  would  take.  I  wear  nothing  but  pur- 
ple now  :  I  know  1  look  hideous  in  it,  but  no  matter,  —  it 
is  your  dear  brother's  favorite  color.  Lose  no  time,  my 
dearest,  sweetest  Catherine,  in  writing  to  him  and  to  me, 
Who  ever  am,  etc. 

Such  a  strain  of  shallow  artifice  could  not  impose 
even  upon  Catherine.  Its  inconsistencies,  contra- 
dictions, and  falsehood  struck  her  from  the  very- 
first.  She  was  ashamed  of  Isabella,  and  ashamed 
of  having  ever  loved  her.  Her  professions  of 
attachment  were  now  as  disgusting  as  her  excuses 
were  empty,  and  her  demands  impudent.  *' Write 
to  James  on  her  behalf!  No,  James  should  never 
hear  Isabella's  name  mentioned  by  her  again.'^ 

On  Henry's  arrival  from  Woodston  she  made 
known  to  him  and  Eleanor  their  brother's  safety, 
congratulating  them  with  sincerity  on  it,  and  read- 
ing aloud  the  most  material  passages  of  her  letter 
with  strong  indignation.  When  she  had  finished 
it,  '^So  much  for  Isabella,"  she  cried,  *'and  for 
all  our  intimacy!  She  must  think  me  an  idiot, 
or  she  could  not  have  written  so;  but  perhaps  this 
has  served  to  make  her  character  better  known  to 
me  than  mine  is  to  her.  I  see  what  she  has  been 
about.  She  is  a  vain  coquette,  and  her  tricks  have 
not  answei-ed.  I  do  not  believe  she  had  ever  any 
regard  either  for  James  or  for  me,  and  I  wish  I  had 
never  known  her." 

"It  will  soon  be  as  if  you  never  had,"  said 
Henry. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  265 

'^  There  is  but  one  thing  that  I  cannot  under- 
stand.    I  see  that  she  has  had  designs  on  Captain 
Tilney   which   have  not  succeeded;  but  I  do   not 
,  understand  what  Captain  Tilney  has  been  about  all 
i  this  time.     Why  should  he  pay  her  such  attentions 
as  to  make  her  quarrel  with  my  brother,  and  then 
I  fly  off  himself?"  ^ 

I       ^'  I  have  very  little  to  say  for  Frederick's  motives, 
I  such  as  I  believe  them  to  have  been.     He  has  his 
j  vanities   as  well    as    Miss   Thorpe;  and  the  chief' 
difference  is    that,   having  a  stronger  head,   they 
have  not  yet  injured  himself.     If  the  effect  of  his 
!  behavior  does  not  justify  him  with  you,    we   had 
better  not  seek  after  the  cause." 

*^  Then  you  do  not  sujDpose  he  ever  really  cared 
i  about  her  ?  " 

j       "  I  am  persuaded  that  he  never  did." 
I       ** And  only  made  believe  to  do  so  for  mischiefs 
[sake?" 

i      Henry  bowed  his  assent. 

j  "Well,  then,  I  must  say  that  I  do  not  like  him 
I  at  all.  Though  it  has  turned  out  so  well  for  us,  I 
( do  not  like  him  at  all.  As  it  happens,  there  is  no 
|;  great  harm  done,  because  I  do  not  think  Isabella 
ii  has  any  heart  to  lose.  But  suppose  he  had  made 
her  very  much  in  love  with  him  ?  " 

"But  we  must  first  suppose  Isabella  to  have 
had  a  heart  to  lose,  consequently  to  have  been  a  very 
different  creature;  and  in  that  case  she  would 
have  met  with  very  different  treatment." 

"It  is  very  right  that  you  should  stand  by  your 
■brother." 

"  And  if  you  would  stand  by  yours,  you  would 


266        NOKTH ANGER  ABBEY. 

not  be  mucli  distressed  by  the  disappointment  of 
Miss  Thorpe.  But  your  mind  is  warped  by  an 
innate  principle  of  general  integrity,  and  there- 
fore not  accessible  to  the  cool  reasonings  of  family 
partiality,  or  a  desire  of  revenge." 

Catherine  was  complimented  out  of  further  bit- 
terness. Frederick  could  not  be  unpardonably 
guilty  while  Henry  made  himself  so  agreeable.  She 
resolved  on  not  answering  Isabella's  letter,  and 
tried  to  think  no  more  of  it. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  267 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Soon  after  this,  the  General  found  himself  obliged 
to  go  to  London  for  a  week;  and  he  left  North- 
anger,  earnestly  regretting  that  anj^  necessity 
I  should  rob  him,  even  for  an  hour,  of  Miss  Mor- 
land's  compan}^,  and  anxiously  recommending  the 
study  of  her  comfort  and  amusement  to  his  chil- 
I  dren,  as  their  chief  object  in  his  absence.  His 
i  dej^arture  gave  Catherine  the  first  experimental 
I  conviction  that  a  loss  may  be  sometimes  a  gain. 
t  The  happiness  with  which  their  time  now  passed 
—  every  employment  voluntary,  every  laugh  in- 
,  dulged,  everj^  meal  a  scene  of  ease  and  good- 
humor,  walking  where  they  liked  and  when  they 
liked,  their  hours,  pleasures,  and  fatigues  at  their 
own  command, — made  her  thoroughly  sensible  of 
the  restraint  which  the  General's  presence  had 
imposed,  and  most  thankfully  feel  their  present 
release  from  it.  Such  ease  and  such  delights 
made  her  love  the  place  and  the  people  more  and 
more  every  day;  and  had  it  not  been  for  a  dread 
of  its  soon  becoming  expedient  to  leave  the  one, 
and  an  apprehension  of  not  being  equally  beloved 
by  the  other,  she  would  at  each  moment  of  each  day 
have  been  perfectly  happy ;  but  she  was  now  in  the 
fourth  week  of  her  visit;  before  the  General  came 
home,   the  fourth  week  would  be  turned,  and  per- 


268  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

haps  it  might  seem  an  intrusion  if  she  stayed 
much  longer.  This  was  a  painful  consideration 
whenever  it  occurred;  and  eager  to  get  rid  of  such 
a  weight  on  her  mind,  she  very  soon  resolved  to 
speak  to  Eleanor  about  it  at  once,  propose  going 
away,  and  be  guided  in  her  conduct  by  the  man- 
ner in  which  her  proposal  might  be  taken. 

Aware  that  if  she  gave  herself  much  time,  she 
might  feel  it  difficult  to  bring  forward  so  unpleas- 
ant a  subject,  she  took  the  first  opportunity  of 
being  suddenly  alone  with  Eleanor,  and  of  Elea- 
nor's being  in  the  middle  of  a  speech  about  some- 
thing very  different,  to  start  forth  her  obligation 
of  going  away  very  soon.  Eleanor  looked  and 
declared  herself  much  concerned.  She  had  ''  hoped 
for  the  pleasure  of  her  company  for  a  much  longer 
time,  —  had  been  misled  (perhaps  by  her  wishes) 
to  suppose  that  a  much  longer  visit  had  been 
promised,  — and  could  not  but  think  that  if  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Morland  were  aware  of  the  pleasure  it 
was  to  her  to  have  her  there,  they  would  be  too 
generous  to  hasten  her  return."  Catherine  ex- 
plained: ^'Oh,  as  to  that,  papa  and  mamma  Avere 
in  no  hurry  at  all.  As  long  as  she  was  happy, 
they  would  alwaj^s  be  satisfied." 

^^Then  why,  might  she  ask,  in  such  a  hurry 
herself  to  leave  them?" 

''  Oh,  because  she  had  been  there  so  long." 

^^Nay,  if  you  can  use  such  a  word,  I  can  urge 
you  no  farther.     If  you  think  it  long  — " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  do  not  indeed.  Eor  my  own  pleas- 
ure, I  could  stay  with  you  as  long  again."  And 
it  was  directly  settled  that   till  she  had,  her  leav- 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  269 

ing  them  was  not  even  to  be  thought  of.  In  having 
this  cause  of  uneasiness  so  pleasantly  removed,  the 
i  force  of  the  other  was  likewise  weakened.  The 
i  kindness,  the  earnestness  of  Eleanor's  manner  in 
[  pressing  her  to  stay,  and  Henry's  gratified  look  on 
I  being  told  that  her  stay  was  determined,  were 
I  such  sweet  proofs  of  her  importance  with  them,  as 
!  left  her  only  just  so  much  solicitude  as  the  human 
'[  mind  can  never  do  comfortably  without.  She  did 
j  — almost  always  —  believe  that  Henry  loved  her, 
,  and  quite  always  that  his  father  and  sister  loved 
and  even  wished  her  to  belong  to  them;  and  be- 
I  lieving  so  far,  her  doubts  and  anxieties  were 
I  merely  sportive  irritations. 

Henry  was  not  able  to  obey  his  father's  injunc- 

I  tion  of  remaining  wholly   at    Northanger,   in  at- 

1  tendance    on    the    ladies,    during   his    absence    in 

London;  the  engagements  of  his  curate  at  Wood- 

ston  obliging  him  to  leave  them  on  Saturday  for  a 

couple  of  nights.     His  loss   was  not  now  what  it. 

had  been  while  the  General  was  at  home :  it  les- 

I  sened  their  gayety,  but  did  not  ruin  their  comfort; 

'  and  the    two   girls,    agreeing    in  occupation    and 

improving  in  intimacy,  found  themselves  so  well- 

I  sufficient    for    the    time    to    themselves,    that    it 

was    eleven     o'clock,    rather   a   late   hour   at   the 

'  Abbey,  before  they  quitted  the  supper-room  on  the 

day  of  Henry's  departure.      They  had  just  reached 

the  head  of  the  stairs,  when  it  seemed,  as  far  as 

the  thickness  of  the  walls   would  allow  them  to 

!  judge,  that  a  carriage  was  driving  up  to  the  door; 

and  the  next  moment  confirmed  the  idea  by  the 

loud  noise  of  the  house-bell.     After  the  first  per- 


270  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

turbation  of  surprise  had  passed  away,  in  a 
"Good  heaven!  what  can  be  the  matter?"  it 
was  quickly  decided  by  Eleanor  to  be  her  eldest 
brother,  whose  arrival  was  often  as  sudden,  if  not 
quite  so  unseasonable;  and  accordingly  she  hur- 
ried down  to  welcome  him. 

Catherine  walked  on  to  her  chamber,  making  up 
her  mind,  as  well  as  she  could,  to  a  further  ac- 
quaintance with  Captain  Tilney,  and  comforting 
herself  under  the  unpleasant  impression  his  con- 
duct had  given  her,  and  the  persuasion  of  his  be- 
ing by  far  too  fine  a  gentleman  to  approve  of  her, 
that  at  least  they  should  not  meet  under  such  cir- 
cumstances as  would  make  their  meeting  mate- 
rially painful.  She  trusted  he  would  never  speak 
of  Miss  Thorpe;  and  indeed,  as  he  must  by  this 
time  be  ashamed  of  the  part  he  had  acted,  there 
could  be  no  danger  of  it;  and  as  long  as  all  men- 
tion of  Bath  scenes  was  avoided,  she  thought  she 
could  behave  to  him  very  civilly.  In  such  con- 
siderations time  passed  away,  and  it  was  certainly 
in  his  favor  that  Eleanor  should  be  so  glad  to  see 
him,  and  have  so  much  to  say,  for  half  an  hour 
was  almost  gone  since  his  arrival,  and  Eleanor  did 
not  come  up. 

At  that  moment  Catherine  thought  she  heard 
her  step  in  the  gallery,  and  listened  for  its  contin- 
uance; but  all  was  silent.  Scarcely,  however, 
had  she  convicted  her  fancy  of  error,  when  the 
noise  of  something  moving  close  to  her  door  made 
her  start;  it  seemed  as  if  some  one  was  touching 
the  very  doorway,  —  and  in  another  moment  a 
slight  motion  of  the  lock  proved  that  some  hand 


NORTHANGER   ABBEY.  271 

must  be  on  it.  She  trembled  a  little  at  the  idea 
of  any  one's  approaching  so  cautiously;  but  resolv- 
ing not  to  be  again  overcome  by  trivial  appear- 
ances of  alarm,  or  misled  by  a  raised  imagination, 
she  stepped  quietly  forward,  and  opened  the  door. 
Eleanor,  and  onl}^  Eleanor,  stood  there.  Cather- 
ine's spirits,  however,  were  tranquillized  but  for 
an  instant,  for  Eleanor's  cheeks  were  pale,  and  her 
manner  greatly  agitated.  Though  evidently  in- 
tending to  come  in,  it  seemed  an  effort  to  enter 
the  room,  and  a  still  greater  to  speak  when  there. 
Catherine,  supposing  some  uneasiness  on  Captain 
Tilney's  account,  could  onl}'-  express  her  concern 
by  silent  attention;  obliged  her  to  be  seated, 
rubbed  her  temples  with  lavender  water,  and  hung 
over  her  with  affectionate  solicitude.  ^' My  dear 
Catherine,  you  must  not  —  you  must  not  indeed  —  " 
were  Eleanor's  first  connected  words.  "1  am  quite 
well.  This  kindness  distracts  me  —  I  cannot  bear 
it  —  I  come  to  you  on  such  an  errand!" 

^^ Errand!  — to  me!" 

^^How  shall  I  tell  you!  Oh,  how  shall  I  tell 
you!" 

A  new  idea  now  darted  into  Catherine's  mind, 
and  turning  as  pale  as  her  friend,  she  exclaimed, 
^^'Tisa  messenger  from  Woodston!" 

^^  You  are  mistaken,  indeed,"  returned  Eleanor, 
looking  at  her  most  compassionately,  —  ''it  is  no 
one  from  Woodston.  It  is  my  father  himself." 
Her  voice  faltered,  and  her  eyes  were  turned  to 
the  ground  as  she  mentioned  his  name.  His  un- 
looked-for return  was  enough  in  itself  to  make 
Catherine's  heart  sink,  and  for  a  few  moments  she 


272  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

hardly  supposed  there  were  anything  worse  to  be 
told.  She  said  nothing;  and  Eleanor,  endeavor- 
ing to  collect  herself  and  speak  with  firmness,  but 
with  eyes  still  cast  down,  soon  went  on.  "  You  are 
too  good,  I  am  sure,  to  think  the  worse  of  me  for 
the  part  I  am  obliged  to  perform.  I  am,  indeed, 
a  most  unwilling  messenger.  After  what  has  so 
lately  passed,  so  lately  been  settled  between  us  — 
how  joyfully,  how  thankfully  on  my  side!  — as  to 
your  continuing  here  as  I  hoped  for  many,  many 
weeks  longer,  how  can  I  tell  you  that  your  kind- 
ness is  not  to  be  accepted,  and  that  the  happiness 
your  company  has  hitherto  given  us  is  to  be  repaid 
by —  But  I  must  not  trust  myself  with  words. 
My  dear  Catherine,  we  are  to  part.  My  father  has 
recollected  an  engagement  that  takes  our  whole 
family  away  on  Monday.  We  are  going  to  Lord 
Longtown's,  near  Hereford,  for  a  fortnight.  Ex- 
planation and  apology  are  equally  impossible.  I 
cannot  attempt  either." 

*^My  dear  ^Eleanor,"  cried  Catherine,  suppress- 
ing her  feelings  as  well  as  she  could,  ''do  not  be  so 
distressed.  A  second  engagement  must  give  way 
to  a  first.  I  am  very,  very  sorry  we  are  to  part 
so  soon,  and  so  suddenly  too;  but  I  am  not  of- 
fended, indeed  I  am  not.  I  can  finish  my  visit 
here,  you  know,  at  any  time;  or  I  hope  you  will 
come  to  me.  Can  you,  when  you  return  from  this 
lord's,   come  to  Eullerton?''  » 

^'It  will  not  be  in  my  power,  Catherine.'' 

*^Come  when  you  can,  then.'' 

Eleanor  made  no  answer;  and  Catherine's 
thoughts   recurring  to   something    more    directly 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  273 

interesting,  she  added,  thinking  aloud,  ^^  Monday 
—  so  soon  as  Monday  5  and  you  all  go.  Well,  I  am 
certain  of  —  I  shall  be  able  to  take  leave,  how- 
ever. I  need  not  go  till  just  before  you  do,  you 
know.  Do  not  be  distressed,  Eleanor;  I  can  go  on 
Monday  very  well.  My  father  and  mother's  hav- 
ing no  notice  of  it  is  of  very  little  consequence. 
The  General  will  send  a  servant  with  me,  I  dare 
say,  half  the  wa}^,  —  and  then  I  shall  soon  be  at 
Salisbury,  and  then  I  am  only  nine  miles  from 
home." 

^^  Ah,  Catherine!  were  it  settled  so,  it  would  be 
somewhat  less  intolerable ;  though  in  such  common 
attentions  you  would  have  received  but  half  of 
what  you  ought.  But  —  how  can  I  tell  you  ?  —  to- 
morrow morning  is  fixed  for  your  leaving  us,  and 
not  even  the  hour  is  left  to  your  choice ;  the  very 
carriage  is  ordered,  and  w^ill  be  here  at  seven 
o'clock,  and  no  servant  will  be  offered  you." 

Catherine  sat  down,   breathless  and  speechless. 

^'  I  could  hardly  believe  my  senses  when  I  heard 
it ;  and  no  displeasure,  no  resentment  that  you  can 
feel  at  this  moment,  however  justly  great,  can  be 
more  than  I  myself  —  But  I  must  not  talk  of  what 
I  felt.  Oh  that  I  could  suggest  anything  in  ex- 
tenuation! Good  God!  what  will  your  father  and 
mother  say  ?  After  courting  you  from  the  protec- 
tion of  real  friends  to  this  —  almost  double  dis- 
tance from  your  home  —  to  have  you  driven  out 
of  the  house,  without  the  considerations  even  of 
decent  civility!  Dear,  dear  Catherine,  in  being 
the  bearer  of  such  a  message,  I  seem  guilty  myself 
of  all  its  insult;  yet  I  trust  you  will  acquit  me, 
18 


274  NORTIIANGER  ABBEY. 

for  you  must  have  been  long  enough  in  this  house 
to  see  that  I  am  but  a  nominal  mistress  of  it,  that 
my  real  power  is  nothing." 

"  Have  I  offended  the  General  ?  '^  said  Cathe- 
rine,  in  a  faltering    voice. 

'^  Alas!  for  my  feelings  as  a  daughter,  all  that 
I  know,  all  that  I  answer  for  is  that  you  can  have 
given  him  no  just  cause  of  offence.  He  certainly 
is  greatly,  very  greatly  discomposed;  I  have  sel- 
dom seen  him  more  so.  His  temper  is  not  happy, 
and  something  has  now  occurred  to  ruffle  it  in  an 
uncommon  degree,  —  some  disappointment,  some" 
vexation,  which  just  at  this  moment  seems  impor- 
tant, but  which  I  can  hardly  suppose  you  to  have 
any  concern  in;  for  how  is  it  possible  ?  '' 

It  was  with  pain  that  Catherine  could  speak  at 
all;  and  it  was  only  for  Eleanor's  sake  that  she 
attempted  it.  *'  I  am  sure,"  said  she,  ^'  I  am  very 
sorry  if  I  have  offended  him.  It  was  the  last 
thing  I  would  willingly  have  done.  But  do  not 
be  unhappy,  Eleanor.  An  engagement,  you  know, 
must  be  kept.  I  am  only  sorry  it  was  not  recol- 
lected sooner,  that  I  might  have  written  home. 
But  it  is  of  very    little  consequence." 

^'1  hope,  I  earnestly  hope  that  to  your  real 
safety  it  will  be  of  none;  but  to  everything  else  it 
is  of  the  greatest  consequence;  to  comfort,  appear- 
ance, propriety,  to  your  family,  to  the  world. 
Were  your  friends,  the  Aliens,  still  in  Bath,  you 
might  go  to  them  with  comparative  ease;  a  few 
hours  would  take  you  there;  but  a  journey  of 
seventy  miles  to  be  taken  post  by  you,  at  your 
age,  alone,  unattended! '* 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  275 

'^Oh,  the  journey  is  nothing.  Do  not  think 
about  that.  And  if  we  are  to  part,  a  few  hours 
sooner  or  later,  you  know,  makes  no  difference. 
I  can  be  ready  by  seven.  Let  me  be  called  in 
time."  Eleanor  saw  that  she  wished  to  be  alone; 
and  believing  it  better  for  each  that  they  should 
avoid  any  further  conversation,  now  left  her  with, 
"I  shall  see  you   in  the   morning.'' 

Catherine's  swelling  heart  needed  relief.  In 
Eleanor's  presence  friendship  and  pride  had 
equally  restrained  her  tears,  but  no  sooner  was  she 
gone  than  they  burst  forth  in  torrents.  Turned 
from  the  house,  and  in  such  a  way !  Without  any 
reason  that  could  justify,  any  apology  that  could 
atone  for  the  abruptness,  the  rudeness,  nay,  the 
insolence  of  it.  Henry  at  a  distance,  —  not  able 
even  to  bid  him  farewell.  Every  hope,  every  ex- 
pectation from  him  suspended,  at  least,  and  who 
could  say  how  long  ?  Wlio  could  say  when  they 
might  meet  again  ?  And  all  this  by  such  a  man  as 
General  Tilney,  so  polite,  so  well-bred,  and  here- 
tofore so  particularly  fond  of  her!  It  was  as  in- 
comprehensible as  it  was  mortifying  and  grievous. 
From  what  it  could  arise,  and  where  it  would  end, 
were  considerations  of  equal  perplexity  and  alarm. 
The  manner  in  which  it  was  done  so  grossly  un- 
civil :  hurrying  her  away  without  any  reference  to 
her  own  convenience,  or  allowing  her  even  the 
appearance  of  choice  as  to  the  time  or  mode  of  her 
travelling;  of  two  days,  the  earliest  fixed  on,  and 
of  that  almost  the  earliest  hour,  as  if  resolved  to 
have  her  gone  before  he  was  stirring  in  the  morn- 
ing, that  he  might  not  be  obliged  even  to  see  her. 


276  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

What  could  all  this  mean  but  an  intentional 
affront  ?  By  some  means  or  other  she  must  have 
had  the  misfortune  to  offend  him.  Eleanor  had 
wished  to  spare  her  from  so  painful  a  notion,  but 
Catherine  could  not  believe  it  possible  that  any 
injury  or  any  misfortune  could  provoke  such  ill- 
-will against  a  person  not  connected,  or,  at  least, 
not,  supposed  to  be   connected  with  it. 

Heavily  passed  the  night.  Sleep,  or  repose  that 
deserved  the  name  of  sleep,  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. That  room,  in  which  her  disturbed  imagi- 
nation had  tormented  her  on  her  first  arrival,  was 
again  the  scene  of  agitated  spirits  and  unquiet 
slumbers.  Yet  how  different  now  the  source  of 
her  inquietude  from  what  it  had  been  then,  —  how 
mournfully  superior  in  reality  and  substance!  JHer 
anxiety  had  foundation  in  fact,  her  fears  in  proba- 
l)ility;  anH.  with  a  mind  so  occupied  in  the  contem- 
plation of  actual  and  natural  evil,  the  solitude  of 
her  situation,  the  darkness  of  her  chamber,  the 
antiquity  of  the  building,  were  felt  and  considered 
without  the  smallest  emotion;  and  though  the 
wind  was  high,  and  often  produced  strange  and 
sudden  noises  throughout  the  house,  she  heard  it 
all  as  she  lay  awo^e,  hour  after  hour,  without 
curiosity  or  terror.     • 

Soon  after  six  Eleanor  entered  her  room,  eager 
to  show  attention,  or  give  assistance  where  it  was 
possible;  but  very  little  remained  to  be  done. 
Catherine  had  not  loitered ;  she  was  almost  dressed, 
and  her  packing  almost  finished.  The  possibility 
of  some  conciliatory  message  from  the  General 
occurred  to  her  as  his  daughter  appeared.     What 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  277 

so  natural  as  that  anger  should  pass  away  and  re« 
pentance  succeed  it  ?  and  she  only  wanted  to  know 
how  far,  after  what  had  passed,  an  apology  might 
properly  be  received  by  her.     But  the  knowledge 
would   have  been  useless   here,  it  was  not  called 
for;  neither  clemency  nor  dignity  was  put  to  the 
trial,  —  Eleanor  brought  no  message.     Very  little 
I  passed  between  them  on  meeting:  each  found  her 
!  greatest  safety  in  silence ;  and  few  and  trivial  were 
I  the  sentences  exchanged  while  they  remained  up- 
1  stairs,  Catherine  in  busy  agitation  completing  her 
I  dress,  and  Eleanor,  with  more  good-will  than  ex- 
1  perience,    intent  upon  filling    the    trunk.     When 
everything  was  done,   they  left   the  room,   Cathe- 
rine  lingering   only   half   a   minute   behind    her 
friend  to  throw  a  parting  glance  on  every  well- 
known  cherished  object,   and  went   down   to   the 
breakfast-parlor,    where   breakfast   was    prepared. 
She  tried  to  eat,  as  well  to  save  herself  from  the 
;  pain  of  being  urged,  as  to  make  her  friend  com- 
fortable;  but  she  had  no  appetite,  and  could  not 
swallow  many  mouthfuls.     The  contrast  between 
this  and  her  last  breakfast  in  that  room  gave  her 
fresh  misery,    and  strengthened   her   distaste   for 
everything    before    her.      It    \vas    not    four-and- 
twenty  hours  ago  since  they  aad  met  there  to  the 
same  repast,  but  in  circumstances  how  different.' 
With   what   cheerful    ease,    what    happy    though 
false  security,    had  she  then  looked  around  her, 
enjoying  everything  present,  and  fearing  little  in 
future,   beyond  Henry's   going  to  Woodston  for  a 
day!     Happy,    happy   breakfast!    for  Henry   had 
been  there,  —  Henry  had  sat  by  her  and  helped 


278  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

her.  These  reflections  were  long  indulged  undis- 
turbed by  any  address  from  her  companion,  who 
sat  as  deep  in  thought  as  herself;  and  the  appear- 
ance of  the  carriage  was  the  first  thing  to  startle 
and  recall  them  to  the  present  moment.  Cathe- 
rine's color  rose  at  the  sight  of  it;  and  the  indig- 
nity with  which  she  was  treated  striking  at  that 
instant  on  her  mind  w^h  peculiar  force,  made  her 
for  a  short  time  sensible  only  of  resentment. 
Eleanor  seemed  now  impelled  into  resolution,  and 
speech. 

^' You  must  write  to  me,  Catherine,"  she  cried; 
*^you  must  let  me  hear  from  you  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble. Till  I  know  you  to  be  safe  at  home,  I  shall 
not  have  an  hour's  comfort.  For  one  letter,  at  all 
risks,  all  hazards,  I  must  entreat.  Let  me  have 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  you  are  safe  at 
Fullerton,  and  have  found  your  family  well;  and 
then,  till  I  can  ask  for  your  correspondence  as  I 
ought  to  do,  I  will  not  expect  more.  Direct  to  me 
at  Lord  Longtown's,  and  I  must  ask  it,  under 
cover  to  Alice." 

*^No,  Eleanor,  if  you  are  not  allowed  to  receive 
a  letter  from  me,  I  am  sure  I  had  better  not  write. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  of  my  getting  home  safe." 

Eleanor  only  replied,  ^'I  cannot  wonder  at 
your  feelings.  I  will  not  importune  you.  I  will 
trust  to  your  own  kindness  of  heart  when  I  am  at 
a  distance  from  you."  But  this,  with  the  look  of 
sorrow  accompanying  it,  was  enough  to  melt  Cath- 
erine's pride  in  a  moment,  and  she  instantly  said, 
"Oh,  Eleanor,  I  will  write  to  you,  indeed." 

There  was  yet  another  point  which  Miss  Tilney 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  273 

was  anxious  to  settle,  though  somewhat  emhar- 
rassed  in  speaking  of.  It  had  occurred  to  her 
that  after  so  long  an  ahsence  from  home,  Cather- 
ine might  not  be  provided  with  money  enough  for 
the  expenses  of  her  journey,  and,  upon  suggesting 
it  to  her  with  most  affectionate  offers  of  accommoda- 
tion, it  proved  to  be  exactly  the  case.  Catherine 
had  never  thought  on  the  subject  till  that  moment ; 
but  upon  examining  her  purse,  was  convinced 
that  but  for  this  kindness  of  her  friend  she  might 
have  been  turned  from  the  house  without  even  the 
means  of  getting  home ;  and  the  distress  in  which 
she  must  have  been  thereby  involved  filling  the 
minds  of  both,  scarcely  another  word  was  said  by 
either  during  the  time  of  their  remaining  together. 
Short,  however,  was  that  time.  The  carriage  was 
soon  announced  to  be  ready;  and  Catherine  in- 
stantly rising,  a  long  and  affectionate  embrace  sup- 
plied the  place  of  language  in  bidding  each  other 
adieu ;  and  as  they  entered  the  hall,  unable  to  leave 
the  house  without  some  mention  of  one  whose  name 
had  not  yet  been  spoken  by  either,  she  paused  a 
moment,  and  with  quivering  lips  just  made  it  in- 
telligible that  she  left  ^^  her  kind  remembrance  for 
her  absent  friend."  But  with  this  approach  to  his 
name  ended  all  possibility  of  restraining  her  feel- 
ings; and  hiding  her  face  as  well  as  she  could 
with  her  handkerchief,  she  darted  across  the  hall, 
jumped  into  the  chaise,  and  in  a  moment  was 
driven  from  the  door. 


280  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Catherine  was  too  wretched  to  be  fearful.  The 
journey  in  itself  had  no  terrors  for  her;  and  she 
began  it  without  either  dreading  its  length  or 
feeling  its  solitariness.  Leaning  back  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  carriage,  in  a  violent  burst  of  tears,  she 
was  conveyed  some  miles  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
Abbey  before  she  raised  her  head;  and  the  highest 
point  of  ground  within  the  park  was  almost  closed 
from  her  view  before  she  was  capable  of  turning 
her  eyes  towards  it.  Unfortunately,  the  road  she 
now  travelled  was  the  same  which  only  ten  days 
ago  she  had  so  happily  passed  along  in  going  to 
and  from  Woodston;  and  for  fourteen  miles  ever}^ 
bitter  feeling  was  rendered  more  severe  by  the 
review  of  objects  on  which  she  had  first  looked 
under  impressions  so  different.  Every  mile,  as  it 
brought  her  nearer  Woodston,  added  to  her  suffer- 
ings; and  when  within  the  distance  of  five,  she 
passed  the  turning  which  led  to  it,  and  thought  of 
Henry,  so  near  yet  so  unconscious,  her  grief  and 
agitation  were  excessive. 

The  day  which  she  had  spent  at  that  place  had 
been  one  of  the  hajjpiest  of  her  life.  It  was  there, 
it  was  on  that  day,  that  the  General  had  made  use 
of  such  expressions  with  regard  to  Henry  and  her- 
self; had  so  spoken  and  so  looked  as  to  give  her 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  281 

the  most  positive  conviction  of  his  actually  wish- 
ing their  marriage.  Yes,  only  ten  days  ago  had 
he  elated  her  by  his  pointed  regard,  —  had  he  even 
confused  her  by  his  too  significant  reference!  And 
now  —  what  had  she  done,  or  what  had  she  omitted 
to  do,  to  merit  such  a  change  ? 

The  only  offence  against  him,  of  which  she  could 
accuse  herself,  had  been  such  as  was  scarcely  pos- 
sible to  reach  his  knowledge.  Henry  and  her  own 
heart  only  were  privy  to  the  shocking  suspicions 
which  she  had  so  idly  entertained;  and  equally 
safe  did  she  believe  her  secret  with  each.  Design- 
edly, at  least,  Henry  could  not  have  betrayed  her. 
If,  indeed,  by  any  strange  mischance  his  father 
should  have  gained  intelligence  of  what  she  had 
dared  to  think  and  look  for,  of  her  causeless  fancies 
and  injurious  examinations,  she  could  not  wonder 
at  any  degree  of  his  indignation.  If  aware  of  her 
having  viewed  him  as  a  murderer,  she  could  not 
wonder  at  his  even  turning  her  from  his  house. 
But  a  justification  so  full  of  torture  to  herself  she 
trusted  would  not  be  in  his  power. 

Anxious  as  were  all  her  conjectures  on  this 
point,  it  was  not,  however,  the  one  on  which  she 
dwelt  most.  There  was  a  thought  yet  nearer,  — -a 
more  prevailing,  more  impetuous  concern:  how 
Henry  would  think  and  feel  and  look,  when  he 
returned  on  the  morrow  to  Northanger  and  heard 
of  her  being  gone,  w^as  a  question  of  force  and  in- 
terest to  rise  over  every  other,  to  be  never-ceasing, 
alternately  irritating  and  soothing;  it  sometimes 
suggested  the  dread  of  his  calm  acquiescence,  and 
at  otbers  was  answered  by  the  sweetest  confidence 


282  NORTHANGER   ABBEY. 

in  his  regret  and  resentment.  To  tlie  General,  of 
course,  he  would  not  dare  to  speak;  but  to  Eleanor, 
—  what  might  he  not  say  to  Eleanor  about  her  ? 

In  this  unceasing  recurrence  of  doubts  and  in- 
quiries, on  any  one  article  of  which  her  mind  was  in- 
capable of  more  than  momentary  repose,  the  hours 
passed  away,  and  her  journey  advanced  much  fas- 
ter than  she  looked  for.  The  pressing  anxieties  of 
thought,  which  prevented  her  from  noticing  any- 
thing before  her  when  once  beyond  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Woodston,  saved  her  at  the  same  time 
from  watching  her  progress;  and  though  no  object 
on  the  road  could  engage  a  moment's  attention,  she 
found  no  stage  of  it  tedious.  From  this  she  was 
preserved,  too,  by  another  cause,  —  by  feeling  no 
eagerness  for  her  journey's  conclusion;  for  to  re- 
turn in  such  a  manner  to  Fullerton  was  almost  to 
destroy  the  pleasure  of  a  meeting  with  those  she 
loved  best,  even  after  an  absence  such  as  hers,  — 
an  eleven  weeks'  absence.  What  had  she  to  say 
that  would  not  humble  herself  and  pain  her  family ; 
that  would  not  increase  her  own  grief  by  the  con- 
fession of  it,  extend  an  useless  resentment,  and 
perhaps  involve  the  innocent  with  the  guilty  in 
undistinguishing  ill-will  ?  She  could  never  do 
justice  to  Henry  and  Eleanor's  merit,  — she  felt  it 
too  strongly  for  expression;  and  should  a  dislike 
be  taken  against  them,  should  they  be  thought  of 
unfavorably,  on  their  father's  account,  it  would 
cut  her  to  the  heart. 

With  these  feelings,  she  rather  dreaded  than 
sought  for  the  first  view  of  that  well-known  spire 
which  would  announce  her  within  twenty  miles  of 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  283 

home.  Salisbury  she  had  known  to  be  her  point 
on  leaving  Northanger;  but  after  the  first  stage, 
she  had  been  indebted  to  the  postmasters  for  the 
names  of  the  places  which  were  then  to  conduct 
her  to  it;  so  great  had  been  her  ignorance  of  her 
route.  She  met  with  nothing,  however,  to  distress 
or  frighten  her.  Her  j'-outh,  civil  manners,  and 
liberal  pay  procured  her  all  the  attention  that  a 
traveller  like  herself  could  require;  and  stopping 
only  to  change  horses,  she  travelled  on  for  about 
eleven  hours  without  accident  or  alarm,  and  be- 
tween six  and  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  found 
herself  entering  Fullerton. 

A  heroine  returning,  at  the  close  of  her  career, 
to  her  native  village,  in  all  the  triumph  of  recov- 
ered reputation,  and  all  the  dignity  of  a  countess, 
with  a  long  train  of  noble  relations  in  their  several 
phaetons,  and  three  waiting-maids  in  a  travelling 
chaise-and-four  behind  her,  is  an  event  on  which 
the  pen  of  the  contriver  may  well  delight  to  dwell; 
it  gives  credit  to  every  conclusion,  and  the  author 
must  share  in  the  glory  she  so  liberally  bestows. 
But  my  affair  is  widely  different :  I  bring  back  my 
heroine  to  her  home  in  solitude  and  disgrace;  and 
no  sweet  elation  of  spirits  can  lead  me  into  mi- 
nuteness. A  heroine  in  a  hack  post-chaise  is  such 
a  blow  upon  sentiment  as  no  attempt  at  grandeur 
or  pathos  can  withstand.  Swiftly,  therefore,  shall 
her  post-boy  drive  through  the  village,  amid  the 
gaze  of  Sunday  groups;  and  speedy  shall  be  her 
descent  from  it. 

But  whatever  might  be  the  distress  of  Cather- 
ine's mind  as  she  thus  advanced  towards  the  Par- 


284  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

sonage,  and  whatever  the  humiliation  of  her  biog- 
rapher in  relating  it,  she  was  preparing  enjoy- 
ment of  no  every-day  nature  for  those  to  whom  she 
went,  — first,  in  the  appearance  of  her  carriage, 
and,  secondly,  in  herself.  The  chaise  of  a  trav- 
eller being  a  rare  sight  in  Fullerton,  the  whole 
family  were  immediately  at  the  window;  and  to 
have  it  stopped  at  the  sweep-gate  was  a  pleasure  to 
brighten  every  eye  and  occupy  every  fancy,  —  a 
pleasure  quite  unlocked  for  by  all  but  the  two 
youngest  children,  a  boy  and  girl  of  six  and  four 
years  old,  who  expected  a  brother  or  sister  in  every 
carriage.  Happy  the  glance  that  first  distinguished 
Catherine  !  Happy  the  voice  that  proclaimed  the 
discovery  !  But  whether  such  happiness  were  the 
lawful  property  of  George  or  Harriet,  could  never 
be  exactly  understood. 

Her  father,  mother,  Sarah,  George,  and  Harriet, 
all  assembled  at  the  door,  to  welcome  her  with 
affectionate  eagerness,  was  a  sight  to  awaken  the 
best  feelings  of  Catherine's  heart;  and  in  the  em- 
brace of  each,  as  she  stepped  from  the  carriage,  she 
found  herself  soothed  beyond  anything  that  she 
had  believed  possible.  So  surrounded,  so  caressed, 
she  was  even  happy !  In  the  joyfulness  of  family 
love,  everything  for  a  short  time  was  subdued; 
and  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  leaving  them  at 
first  little  leisure  for  calm  curiosity,  they  were  all 
seated  round  the  tea-table,  which  Mrs.  Morland 
had  hurried  for  the  comfort  of  the  poor  traveller, 
whose  pale  and  jaded  looks  soon  caught  her  notice, 
before  any  inquiry  so  direct  as  to  demand  a  posi- 
tive answer  was  addressed  to  her. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  285 

Eeluctantly  and  with  much  hesitation  did  she 
then  begin  what  might,   perhaps,    at  the  end  of 
half  an   hour  be  termed   by  the    courtesy  of   her 
hearers  an  explanation;    but  scarcely  within  that 
time  could  they  at  all  discover  the  cause,  or  col- 
lect the  particulars  of  her  sudden  return.     They 
were  far  from  being  an  irritable  race ;  far  from  any 
quickness  in  catching,   or  bitterness  in  resenting 
affronts;   but  here,  when  the  whole  was  unfolded, 
was  an  insult  not  to  be  overlooked,   nor,   for  the 
first  half-hour,  to  be  easily  pardoned.      Without 
suffering  any  romantic  alarm  in  the  consideration 
of  their  daughter's  long  and  lonely  journey,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Morland  could  not  but  feel  that  it  might 
have  been  productive  of  much  unpleasantness  to 
her;    that  it  was  what  they  could  never  have  vol- 
untarily suffered;  and  that,  in  forcing  her  on  such 
a  measure.  General  Tilney  had  acted  neither  hon- 
orably nor  feelingly,  neither  as  a  gentleman  nor  as 
a  parent.     Why  he  had  done  it,  what  could  have 
provoked  him  to  such  a  breach  of  hospitality,  and 
so  suddenly  turned  all  his  partial  regard  for  their 
daughter  into  actual  ill-will,  was  a  matter  which 
they  were  at  least  as  far  from  divining  as  Catherine 
herself:  but  it  did  not  oppress  them,  by  any  means, 
so  long;    and  after  a  due  course  of  useless  conjec- 
ture, that  ^'it  was  a  strange  business,  and  that  he 
must  be  a  very  strange  man,"  grew  enough  for  all 
their  indignation  and  wonder;    though  Sarah,  in- 
deed, still  indulged  in  the  sweets  of  incomprehen- 
sibility, exclaiming  and  conjecturing  with  youthful 
ardor.      ^^My  dear,  you  give  yourself  a  great  deal 
of  needless  trouble,"  said  her  mother  at  last;   ''de- 


286  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

pend  upon  it,  it  is  something  not  at  all  worth 
understanding. '' 

"I  can  allow  for  his  wishing  Catherine  away 
when  he  recollected  this  engagement,"  said  Sarah; 
^'hut  why  not  do  it  civilly  ?  " 

"1  am  sorry  for  the  young  people,"  returned 
Mrs.  Morland;  ^Hhey  must  have  a  sad  time  of  it: 
but  as  for  anything  else,  it  is  no  matter  now; 
Catherine  is  safe  at  home,  and  our  comfort  does 
not  depend  upon  General  Tilney."  Catherine 
sighed.  "  Well,"  continued  her  philosophic  mother, 
^'I  am  glad  I  did  not  know  of  jouv  journey  at 
the  time;  but  now  it  is  all  over,  perhaps  there 
is  no  great  harm  done.  It  is  always  good  for 
young  people  to  be  put  upon  exerting  themselves ; 
and  you  know,  my  dear  Catherine,  you  always 
were  a  sad  little  shatter-brained  creature :  but  now 
you  must  have  been  forced  to  have  your  wits  about 
you,  with  so  much  changing  of  chaises  and  so 
forth;  and  I  hope  it  will  appear  that  you  have  not 
left  anything  behind  you  in  any  of  the  pockets." 

Catherine  hoped  so  too,  and  tried  to  feel  an  in- 
terest in  her  own  amendment,  but  her  spirits  were 
quite  worn  down;  and  to  be  silent  and  alone  be- 
coming soon  her  only  wish,  she  readily  agreed  to 
her  mother's  next  counsel  of  going  early  to  bed. 
Her  parents  seeing  nothing  in  her  ill-looks  and 
agitation  but  the  natural  consequence  of  mortified 
feelings,  and  of  the  unusual  exertion  and  fatigue  of 
such  a  journey,  parted  from  her  without  any  doubt 
of  their  being  soon  slept  awa}^;  and  though,  when 
they  all  met  the  next  morning,  her  recovery  was 
not  equal  to  their  hopes,  they  were  still  perfectly 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  287 

unsuspicious  of  there  being  an}^  deeper  evil.  They 
never  once  thought  of  her  heart,  which,  for  the 
parents  of  a  young  lady  of  seventeen,  just  returned 
from  her  first  excursion  from  home,  was  odd 
enough ! 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  she  sat  down  to 
fulfil  her  promise  to  Miss  Tilney,  whose  trust  in 
the  effect  of  time  and  distance  on  her  friend's  dis- 
position, was  already  justified,  for  already  did 
Catherine  reproach  herself  with  having  parted 
from  Eleanor  coldly;  with  having  never  enough 
valued  her  merits  or  kindness ;  and  never  enough 
commiserated  her  for  what  she  had  been  yesterday 
left  to  endure.  The  strength  of  these  feelings, 
however,  was  far  from  assisting  her  pen;  and 
never  had  it  been  harder  for  her  to  write  than  in 
addressing  Eleanor  Tilney.  To  compose  a  letter 
which  might  at  once  do  justice  to  her  sentiments 
and  her  situation,  convey  gratitude  without  servile 
regret,  be  guarded  without  coldness,  and  honest 
without  resentment,  —  a  letter  which  Eleanor  might 
not  be  pained  by  the  perusal  of,  —  and,  above  all, 
which  she  might  not  blush  herself  if  Henry 
should  chance  to  see,  was  an  undertaking  to  frighten 
away  all  her  powers  of  performance ;  and  after  long 
thought  and  much  perplexity,  to  be  very  brief  was 
all  that  she  could  determine  on  with  any  confi- 
dence of  safet3^  The  money,  therefore,  which 
Eleanor  had  advanced  was  enclosed  with  little 
more  than  grateful  thanks,  and  the  thousand  good 
wishes  of  a  most  affectionate  heart. 

^'This  has  been  a  strange  acquaintance, ''  ob* 
served  Mrs.   Morland,  as  the  letter  was  finished; 


288  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

'^  soon  made  and  soon  ended.  I  am  sorry  it  hap- 
pens so,  for  Mrs.  Allen  thought  them  very  pretty 
kind  of  young  people ;  and  you  were  sadly  out  of 
luck,  too,  in  your  Isabella.  Ah,  poor  James! 
Well,  we  must  live  and  learn;  and  the  next  new 
friends  you  make  I  hope  will  be  better  worth 
keeping.'^ 

Catherine  colored  as  she  warmly  answered,  "No 
friend  can  be  better  worth  keeping  than  Eleanor." 

"If  so,  my  dear,  I  dare  say  you  will  meet  again 
sometime  or  other;  do  not  be  uneasy.  It  is  ten  to 
one  but  you  are  thrown  together  again  in  the 
course  of  a  few  years ;  and  then  what  a  pleasure  it 
will  be!" 

Mrs.  Morland  was  not  happy  in  her  attempt  at 
consolation.  The  hope  of  meeting  again  in  the 
course  of  a  few  years  could  only  put  into  Cather- 
ine's head  what  might  happen  within  that  time  to 
make  a  meeting  dreadful  to  her.  She  could  never 
forget  Henry  Tilney,  or  think  of  him  with  less 
tenderness  than  she  did  at  that  moment:  but  he 
might  forget  her;  and  in  that  case  to  meet!  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  pictured  her  acquaint- 
ance so  renewed;  and  her  mother,  perceiving  her 
comfortable  suggestions  to  have  had  no  good  effect, 
proposed  as  another  expedient  for  restoring  her 
spirits,  that  they  should  call  on  Mrs.  Allen. 

The  two  houses  were  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
apart;  and  as  they  walked,  Mrs.  Morland  quickly 
despatched  all  that  she  felt  on  the  score  of  James's 
disappointment.  "We  are  sorry  for  him,"  said 
she;  "but  otherwise  there  is  no  harm  done  in  the 
match  going  off;    for  it  could  not  be  a  desirable 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  289 

thing  to  have  him  engaged  to  a  girl  whom  ^ye  had 
not  the  smallest  acquaintance  with,  and  who  was 
so  entirely  without  fortune;  and  now,  after  such 
behavior,  we  cannot  think  at  all  well  of  her.  Just 
at  present  it  comes  hard  to  poor  James :  but  that 
will  not  last  forever;  and  I  dare  say  he  will  be  a 
discreeter  man  all  his  life,  for  the  foolishness  of 
his  first  choice/' 

This  was  just  such  a  summary  view  of  the  affair 
as  Catherine  could  listen  to:  another  sentence 
might  have  endangered  her  complaisance,  and 
made  her  reply  less  rational ;  for  soon  were  all  her 
thinking  powers  swallowed  up  in  the  reflection  of 
her  own  change  of  feelings  and  spirits  since  last 
she  had  trodden  that  well-known  road.  It  was  not 
three  months  ago  since,  wild  with  joyful  expecta- 
tion, she  had  there  run  backwards  and  forwards 
some  ten  times  a  day,  with  a  heart  light,  gay,  and 
independent;  looking  forward  to  pleasures  untasted 
and  unalloyed,  and  free  from  the  apprehension  of 
evil  as  from  the  knowledge  of  it.  Three  months 
ago  had  seen  her  all  this ;  and  now  how  altered  a 
being  did  she  return! 

She  was  received  by  the  Aliens  with  all  the 
kindness  which  her  unlooked-for  appearance,  acting 
on  a  steady  affection,  would  naturally  call  forth; 
and  great  was  their  surprise,  and  warm  their  dis- 
pleasure, on  hearing  how  she  had  been  treated,  — 
though  Mrs.  Morland's  account  of  it  was  no  in- 
flated representation,  no  studied  appeal  to  their 
passions.  ^'Catherine  took  us  quite  by  surprise 
yesterday  evening,"  said  she.  ''  She  travelled  all 
the  way  post  by  herself,  and  knew  nothing  of 
19 


290        NORTH  ANGER  ABBEY. 

coming  till  Saturday  night;  for  General  Tilney, 
from  some  odd  fancy  or  other,  all  of  a  sudden  grew 
tired  of  having  her  there,  and  almost  turned  her 
out  of  the  house.  Very  unfriendly,  certainly;  and 
he  must  be  a  very  odd  man :  but  we  are  so  glad  to 
have  her  amongst  us  again!  And  it  is  a  great 
comfort  to  find  that  she  is  not  a  poor  helpless 
creature,  but  can  shift  very  well  for  herself.'^ 

Mr.  Allen  expressed  himself  on  the  occasion 
with  the  reasonable  resentment  of  a  sensible 
friend;  and  Mrs.  Allen  thought  his  expressions 
quite  good  enough  to  be  immediately  made  use  of 
again  by  herself.  His  wonder,  his  conjectures, 
and  his  explanations  became  in  succession  hers, 
with  the  addition  of  this  single  remark,  —  •'! 
really  have  not  patience  with  the  General," — to 
fill  up  every  accidental  pause.  And  *'I  really 
have  not  patience  with  the  General,"  was  uttered 
twice  after  Mr.  Allen  left  the  room,  without  any 
relaxation  of  anger,  or  any  material  digression  of 
thought.  A  more  considerable  degree  of  wander- 
ing attended  the  third  repetition;  and  after  com- 
pleting the  fourth,  she  immediately  added:  *'  Only 
think,  my  dear,  of  my  having  got  that  frightful 
great  rent  in  my  best  Mechlin  so  charmingly 
mended,  before  I  left  Bath,  that  one  can  hardly 
see  where  it  was.  I  must  show  it  you  some  day  or 
other.  Bath  is  a  nice  place,  Catherine,  after  all. 
I  assure  you  I  did  not  above  half  like  coming 
away.  Mrs.  Thorpe's  being  there  was  such  a 
comfort  to  us,  was  not  it  ?  You  know,  you  and  I 
were  quite  forlorn  at  first." 

*^  Yes;  but  that  did  not  last  long,"  said  Catherine, 


NOHTIIANGER  ABBEY,  291 

her  eyes  brightening  at  the  recollection  of  what 
had  first  given  spirit  to  her  existence  there. 

'^Very  true:  we  soon  met  with  Mrs,  Thorpe, 
and  then  we  wanted  for  nothing.  My  dear,  do 
not  you  think  these  silk  gloves  wear  very  well  ? 
I  put  them  on  new  the  first  time  of  our  going 
to  the  Lower  E-ooms,  you  know,  and  I  have  worn 
them  a  great  deal  since.  Do  you  remember  that 
evening  ?  " 

<^Do  I  !     Oh,  perfectly.'' 

'^  It  was  very  agreeable,  was  not  it  ?  Mr.  Tilney 
drank  tea  with  us,  and  I  always  thought  him  a 
great  addition,  he  is  so  very  agreeable.  I  have  a 
notion  you  danced  with  him,  but  am  not  quite 
sure.     I  remember  I  had  my  favorite  gown  on." 

Catherine  could  not  answer;  and  after  a  short 
trial  of  other  subjects,  Mrs.  Allen  again  returned 
to,  ^*  I  really  have  not  patience  with  the  General! 
Such  an  agreeable,  worthy  man  as  he  seemed  to  be  ! 
I  do  not  suppose,  Mrs.  Morland,  you  ever  saw  a 
better-bred  man  in  your  life.  His  lodgings  were 
taken  the  very  day  after  he  left  them,  Catherine. 
But  no  wonder;  Milsom  Street,  you  know." 

As  they  walked  home  again,  Mrs.  Morland 
endeavored  to  impress  on  her  daughter's  mind  the 
happiness  of  having  such  steady  well-wishers  as 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allen,  and  the  very  little  considera- 
tion which  the  neglect  or  unkindness  of  slight 
acquaintance  like  the  Tilneys  ought  to  have  with 
her,  while  she  could  preserve  the  good  opinion  and 
affection  of  her  earliest  friends.  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  good  sense  in  all  this ;  but  there  are 
some  situations  of  the  human  mind  in  which  good 


292  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

sense  has  very  little  power;  and  Catherine's  feel- 
ings contradicted  almost  every  position  her  mother 
advanced.  It  was  upon  the  behavior  of  these  very 
slight  acquaintance  that  all  her  present  happiness 
depended;  and  while  Mrs.  Morland  was  success- 
fully confirming  her  own  opinions  by  the  justness 
of  her  own  representations,  Catherine  was  silently 
reflecting  that  now  Henry  must  have  arrived  at 
Northanger;  now  he  must  have  heard  of  her  de- 
parture; and  now,  perhaps,  they  were  all  setting 
off  for  Hereford. 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  293 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Catherine's  disposition  was  not  naturally  seden- 
tary, nor  had  her  habits  been  ever  very  industrious ; 
but  whatever  might  hitherto  have  been  her  defects 
of  that  sort,  her  mother  could  not  but  perceive 
them  now  to  be  greatly  increased.  She  could 
neither  sit  still  nor  employ  herself  for  ten  minutes 
together;  walking  round  the  garden  and  orchard 
again  and  again,  as  if  nothing  but  motion  was 
voluntary,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she  could  even  walk 
about  the  house  rather  than  remain  fixed  for  any 
time  in  the  parlor.  Her  loss  of  spirits  was  a  yet 
greater  alteration.  In  her  rambling  and  her  idle- 
ness, she  might  only  be  a  caricature  of  herself;  but 
in  her  silence  and  sadness  she  was  the  very  reverse 
of  all  that  she  had  been  before. 

For  two  days  Mrs.  Morland  allowed  it  to  pass 
even  without  a  hint;  but  when  a  third  night's  rest 
had  neither  restored  her  cheerfulness,  improved  her 
in  useful  activity,  nor  given  her  a  greater  inclina- 
tion for  needlework,  she  could  no  longer  refrain 
from  the  gentle  reproof  of,  ^^My  dear  Catherine, 
I  am  afraid  you  are  growing  quite  a  fine  lady.  I 
do  not  know  when  poor  Richard's  cravats  would  be 
done,  if  he  had  no  friend  but  you.  Your  head  runs 
too  much  upon  Bath ;  but  there  is  a  time  for  every- 
thing, —  a  time  for  balls  and  plays,  and  a  time  for 


294  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

work.  You  have  had  a  long  run  of  amusement, 
and  now  you  must  try  to  be  useful." 

Catherine  took  up  her  work  directly,  saying,  in  a 
dejected  voice,  that  *^her  head  did  not  run  upon 
Bath  —  much." 

''  Then  you  are  fretting  about  General  Tilney, 
and  that  is  very  simple  of  you;  for  ten  to  one 
whether  you  ever  see  him  again.  You  should 
never  feet  about  trifles."  After  a  short  silence: 
"  I  hope,  my  Catherine,  you  are  not  getting  out  of 
humor  with  home  because  it  is  not  so  grand  as 
Northanger;  that  would  be  turning  your  visit  into 
an  evil,  indeed.  Wherever  you  are,  you  should  al- 
ways be  contented,  but  especially  at  home,  because 
there  you  must  spend  the  most  of  your  time.  I 
did  not  quite  like,  at  breakfast,  to  hear  you  talk  so 
much  about  the  French  bread  at  JSTorthanger." 

"  I  am  sure  I  do  not  care  about  the  bread.  It  is 
all  the  same  to  me  what  I  eat." 

^'  There  is  a  very  clever  essay  in  one  of  the 
books  upstairs  upon  much  such  a  subject,  about 
young  girls  that  have  been  spoilt  for  home  by 
great  acquaintance,  —  *  The  Mirror, '  I  think.  I 
will  look  it  out  for  you  some  day  or  other,  because 
I  am  sure  it  will  do  you  good." 

Catherine  said  no  more;  and  with  an  endeavor 
to  do  right,  applied  to  her  work :  but  after  a  few 
minutes,  sunk  again,  without  knowing  it  herself, 
into  languor  and  listlessness;  moving  herself  in 
her  chair,  from  the  irritation  of  weariness,  much 
oftener  than  she  moved  her  needle.  Mrs.  Morland 
watched  the  progress  of  this  relapse;  and  seeing, 
in  her  daughter's  absent  and  dissatisfied  look,  the 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY  295 

full  proof  of  that  repining  spirit  to  which  she  had 
now  begun  to  attribute  her  want  of  cheerfulness, 
hastily  left  the  room  to  fetch  the  book  in  question, 
anxious  to  lose  no  time  in  attacking  so  dreadful  a 
malady.  It  was  some  time  before  she  could  find 
what  she  looked  for;  and,  other  family  matters 
occurring  to  detain  her,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had 
elapsed  ere  she  returned  downstairs  with  the  volume 
from  which  so  much  was  hoped.  Her  avocations 
above  having  shut  out  all  noise  but  what  she 
created  herself,  she  knew  not  that  a  visitor  had 
arrived  within  the  last  few  minutes,  till,  on  enter- 
ing the  room,  the  first  object  she  beheld  was  a  young 
man  whom  she  had  never  seen  before.  With  a 
look  of  much  respect,  he  immediately  rose;  and 
being  introduced  to  her  by  her  conscious  daughter 
as  '^Mr.  Henry  Tilney,''  with  the  embarrassment 
of  real  sensibility  began  to  apologize  for  his  appear- 
ance there,  acknowledging  that  after  what  had 
passed  he  had  little  right  to  expect  a  welcome  at 
Fullerton,  and  stating  his  impatience  to  be  assured 
of  Miss  Morland's  having  reached  her  home  in 
safety,  as  the  cause  of  his  intrusion.  He  did  not 
address  himself  to  an  uncandid  judge  or  a  resent- 
ful heart.  Far  from  comprehending  him  or  his 
sister  in  their  father's  misconduct,  Mrs.  Morland 
had  been  always  kindly  disposed  towards  each ;  and 
instantly,  pleased  by  his  appeara,nce,  received  him 
with  the  simple  professions  of  unaffected  benevo- 
lence :  thanking  him  for  such  an  attention  to  her 
daughter;  assuring  him  that  the  friends  of  her 
children  were  always  welcome  there;  and  entreat- 
ing him  to  say  not  another  word  of  the  past. 


296  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

He  was  not  ill  inclined  to  obey  this  request ;  for 
though  his  heart  was  greatly  relieved  by  such 
unlooked-for  mildness,  it  was  not,  just  at  that 
moment,  in  his  power  to  say  anything  to  the 
purpose.  Returning  in  silence  to  his  seat,  there- 
fore, he  remained  for  some  minutes  most  civilly  an- 
swering all  Mrs.  Morland's  common  remarks  about 
the  weather  and  roads.  Catherine,  meanwhile,  — 
the  anxious,  agitated,  happy,  feverish  Catherine,  — 
said  not  a  word;  but  her  glowing  cheek  and  bright- 
ened eye  made  her  mother  trust  that  this  good- 
natured  visit  would,  at  least,  set  her  heart  at  ease 
for  a  time ;  and  gladly,  therefore,  did  she  lay  aside 
the  first  volume  of  '^The  Mirror''  for  a  future 
hour. 

Desirous  of  Mr.  Morland's  assistance,  as  well  in 
giving  encouragement  as  in  finding  conversation 
for  her  guest,  whose  embarrassment  on  his  father's 
account  she  earnestly  pitied,  Mrs.  Morland  had 
very  early  despatched  one  of  the  children  to  sum- 
mon him ;  but  Mr.  Morland  was  from  home,  —  and 
being  thus  without  any  support,  at  the  end  of  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  she  had  nothing  to  say.  After 
a  couple  of  minutes'  unbroken  silence,  Henry,  turn- 
ing to  Catherine  for  the  first  time  since  her 
mother's  entrance,  asked  her,  with  sudden  alacrity, 
if  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allen  were  now  at  Fullerton;  and 
on  developing,  from  amidst  all  her  perplexity  of 
words  in  reply,  the  meaning,  which  one  short  syl- 
lable would  have  given,  immediately  expressed  his 
intention  of  paying  his  respects  to  them;  and  with 
a  rising  color,  asked  her  if  she  would  have  the 
goodness   to  show  him  the  way.      ^'You  may  see 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  237 

the  house  from  this  window,  sir,"  was  information 
on  Sarah's  side,  which  produced  only  a  bow  of 
acknowledgment  from  the  gentleman,  and  a  silenc- 
ing nod  from  her  mother;  for  Mrs.  Morland,  think- 
ing it  probable,  as  a  secondary  consideration  in 
his  wish  of  waiting  on  their  worthy  neighbors, 
that  he  might  have  some  explanation  to  give  of 
his  father's  behavior,  which  it  must  be  more  pleas 
ant  for  him  to  communicate  only  to  Catherine, 
would  not,  on  any  account,  prevent  her  accompany- 
ing him.  They  began  their  walk,  and  Mrs.  Mor- 
land was  not  entirely  mistaken  in  his  object  in 
wishing  it.  Some  explanation  on  his  father's 
account  he  had  to  give :  but  his  first  purpose  was 
to  explain  himself;  and  before  they  reached  Mr. 
Allen's  grounds  he  had  done  it  so  well  that  Cathe- 
rine did  not  think  it  could  ever  be  repeated  too 
often.  She  was  assured  of  his  affection ;  and  that 
heart  in  return  was  solicited,  which,  perhaps,  they 
pretty  equally  knew  was  already  entirely  his  own; 
for  though  Henry  was  now  sincerely  attached  to 
her,  —  though  he  felt  and  delighted  in  all  the 
excellences  of  her  character,  and  truly  loved  her 
society,  —  I  must  confess  that  his  affection  origi- 
nated in  nothing  better  than  gratitude;  or,  in 
other  words,  that  a  persuasion  of  her  partiality  for 
him  had  been  the  only  cause  of  giving  her  a  seri- 
ous thought.  It  is  a  new  circumstance  in  romance, 
I  acknow^ledge,  and  dreadfully  derogatory  of  a 
heroine's  dignity;  but  if  it  be  as  new  in  common 
life,  the  credit  of  a  wild  imagination  will  at  least 
be  all  my  own. 

A   very  short   visit   to  Mrs.    Allen,    in   which 


298  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

Henry  talked  at  random,  without  sense  or  con' 
nection,  and  Catherine,  wrapt  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  her  own  unutterable  happiness,  scarcely 
opened  her  lips,  dismissed  them  to  the  ecstasies  of 
another  tete-a  -tete ;  and  before  it  was  suffered  to 
close,  she  was  -enabled  to  judge  how  far  he  was 
sanctioned  by  parental  authority  in  his  present 
application.  On  his  return  from  Woodston,  two 
days  before,  he  had  been  met  near  the  Abbey  by 
his  impatient  father,  hastily  informed  in  angry 
terms  of  Miss  Morland's  departure,  and  ordered  to 
think  of  her  no  more. 

Such  was  the  permission  upon  which  he  had  now 
offered  her  his  hand.  The  affrighted  Catherine, 
amidst  all  the  terrors  of  expectation,  as  she  lis- 
tened to  this  account,  could  not  but  rejoice  in  the 
kind  caution  with  which  Henry  had  saved  her 
from  the  necessity  of  a  conscientious  rejection,  by 
engaging  her  faith  before  he  mentioned  the  sub- 
ject; and  as  he  proceeded  to  give  the  particulars, 
and  explain  the  motives  of  his  father's  conduct, 
her  feelings  soon  hardened  into  even  a  triumphant 
delight.  The  General  had  had  nothing  to  accuse 
her  of,  nothing  to  lay  to  her  charge,  but  her  being 
the  involuntary,  unconscious  object  of  a  deception 
which  his  pride  could  not  pardon,  and  which  a 
better  pride  would  have  been  ashamed  to  own.  She 
was  guilty  only  of  being  less  rich  than  he  had  sup- 
posed her  to  be.  Under  a  mistaken  persuasion  of 
her  possessions  and  claims,  he  had  courted  her 
acquaintance  in  Bath,  solicited  her  company  at 
Northanger,  and  designed  her  for  his  daughter-in- 
law.     On  discovering  his  error,  to  turn  her  from 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  299 

the  house  seemed  the  best,  though  to  his  feelings 
an  inadequate,  proof  of  his  resentment  towards  her- 
self, and  his  contempt  of  her  family. 

John  Thorpe  had  first  misled  him.  The  Gen- 
eral, perceiving  his  son  one  night  at  the  theatre  to 
be  paying  considerable  attention  to  Miss  Morland, 
had  accidentally  inquired  of  Thorpe  if  he  knew 
more  of  her  than  her  name.  Thorpe,  most  happy 
to  be  on  speaking  terms  with  a  man  of  General 
Tilney's  importance,  had  been  joyfully  and  proudly 
communicative;  and  being  at  that  time  not  only 
in  daily  expectation  of  Morland^s  engaging  Isfv- 
bella,  but  likewise  pretty  well  resolved  upon 
marrying  Catherine  himself,  his  vanity  induced 
him  to  represent  the  family  as  yet  more  wealthy 
than  his  vanity  and  avarice  had  made  him  believe 
them.  With  whomsoever  he  was,  or  was  likely  to 
be  connected,  his  own  consequence  always  required 
that  theirs  should  be  great;  and  as  his  intimacy 
with  any  acquaintance  grew,  so  regularly  grew 
their  fortune.  The  expectations  of  his  friend  Mor- 
land, therefore,  from  the  first  overrated,  had,  ever 
since  his  introduction  to  Isabella,  been  gradually 
increasing;  and  by  merely  adding  twice  as  much 
for  the  grandeur  of  the  moment,  by  doubling  what 
he  chose  to  think  the  amount  of  Mr.  Morland's 
preferment,  trebling  his  private  fortune,  bestowing 
a  rich  aunt,  and  sinking  half  the  children,  he  was 
able  to  represent  the  whole  family  to  the  General 
in  a  most  respectable  light.  For  Catherine,  how- 
ever, the  peculiar  object  of  the  General's  curiosity 
and  his  own  speculations,  he  had  yet  something 
more  in  reserve,  and  the  ten  or  fifteen  thousand 


300  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

pounds  which  her  father  could  give  her  would  he  a 
pretty  addition  to  Mr.  Allen's  estate.  Her  inti- 
macy there  had  made  him  seriously  determine  on 
her  heing  handsomely  legacied  hereafter;  and  to 
speak  of  her  therefore  as  the  almost  acknowledged 
future  heiress  of  Fullerton  naturally  followed. 
Upon  such  intelligence  the  General  had  proceeded; 
for  never  had  it  occurred  to  him  to  douht  its 
authority.  Thorpe's  interest  in  the  family,  by  his 
sister's  approaching  connection  with  one  of  its 
members,  and  his  own  views  on  another  (circum- 
stances of  which  he  boasted  with  almost  equal 
openness),  seemed  sufficient  vouchers  for  his  truth ; 
and  to  these  were  added  the  absolute  facts  of  the 
Aliens  being  wealthy  and  childless,  of  Miss  Mor4- 
land's  being  under  their  care,  and  —  as  soon  as  his 
acquaintance  allowed  him  to  judge  —  of  their  treat- 
ing her  with  parental  kindness.  His  resolution 
was  soon  formed.  Already  had  he  discerned  a 
liking  towards  Miss  Morland  in  the  countenance 
of  his  son ;  and,  thankful  for  Mr.  Thorpe's  commu- 
nication, he  almost  instantly  determined  to  spare 
no  pains  in  weakening  his  boasted  interest,  and 
ruining  his  dearest  hopes.  Catherine  herself  could 
not  be  more  ignorant  at  the  time  of  all  this  than 
his  own  children.  Henry  and  Eleanor,  perceiv- 
ing nothing  in  her  situation  likely  to  engage  their 
father's  particular  respect,  had  seen  with  astonish- 
ment the  suddenness,  continuance,  and  extent  of 
his  attention;  and  though  latterly,  from  some 
hints  which  had  accompanied  an  almost  positive 
command  to  his  son  of  doing  everything  in  his 
power  to  attach  her,  Henry  was  convinced  of  his 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  301 

father^s  believing  it  to  be  an  advantageous  con- 
nection, it  was  not  till  the  late  explanation  at 
Northanger  that  they  had  the  smallest  idea  of  the 
false  calculations  which  had  hurried  him  on.  That 
they  were  false,  the  General  had  learnt  from  the 
very  person  who  had  suggested  them,  from  Thorpe 
himself,  whom  he  had  chanced  to  meet  again  in 
town,  and  who,  under  the  influence  of  exactly 
opposite  feelings,  irritated  by  Catherine's  refusal, 
and  yet  more  by  the  failure  of  a  very  recent 
endeavor  to  accomplish  a  reconciliation  between 
Morland  and  Isabella,  convinced  that  they  were 
separated  forever,  and  spurning  a  friendship  which 
could  be  no  longer  serviceable,  hastened  to  contra- 
dict all  that  he  had  said  before  to  the  advantage 
of  the  Morlands ;  —  confessed  himself  to  have  been 
totally  mistaken  in  his  opinion  of  their  circum- 
stances and  character,  misled  by  the  rhodomontade 
of  his  friend  to  believe  his  father  a  man  of  sub- 
stance and  credit,  whereas  the  transactions  of  the 
two  or  three  last  weeks  proved  him  to  be  neither; 
for  after  coming  eagerly  forward,  on  the  first  over- 
ture of  a  marriage  between  the  families,  with  the 
most  liberal  proposals,  he  had,  on  being  brought 
to  the  point  by  the  shrewdness  of  the  relator,  been 
constrained  to  acknowledge  himself  incapable  of 
giving  the  young  people  even  a  decent  support. 
They  were,  in  fact,  a  necessitous  family;  numer- 
ous, too,  almost  beyond  example;  by  no  means 
respected  in  their  own  neighborhood,  as  he  had 
lately  had  particular  opportunities  of  discovering; 
aiming  at  a  style  of  life  which  their  fortune  could 
not   warrant;    seeking   to    better    themselves    by 


302  NORTHAKGER   ABBEY. 

wealthy  connections;  a  forward,  bragging,  schem- 
ing race 

The  terrified  General  pronounced  the  name  of 
Allen  with  an  inquiring  look;  and  here  too  Thorpe 
had  learnt  his  error.  The  Aliens,  he  believed, 
had  lived  near  them  too  long,  and  he  knew  the 
young  man  on  whom  the  Fullerton  estate  must 
devolve.  The  General  needed  no  more.  Enraged 
with  almost  everybody  in  the  world  but  himself, 
he  set  out  the  next  day  for  the  Abbey,  where  his 
performances  have  been  seen. 

I  leave  it  to  my  reader's  sagacity  to  determine 
how  much  of  all  this  it  was  possible  for  Henry  to 
communicate  at  this  time  to  Catherine,  how  much 
of  it  he  could  have  learnt  from  his  father,  in  what 
points  his  own  conjectures  might  assist  him,  and 
what  portion  must  yet  remain  to  be  told  in  a  let- 
ter from  James.  I  have  united  for  their  ease  what 
they  must  divide  for  mine.  Catherine,  at  any 
rate,  heard  enough  to  feel  that  in  suspecting 
General  Tilney  of  either  murdering  or  shutting  np 
his  wife,  she  had  scarcely  sinned  against  his  char- 
acter,  or  magnified  his  cruelty. 

Henry,  in  having  such  things  to  relate  of  his 
father,  was  almost  as  pitiable  as  in  their  first 
avowal  to  himself.  He  blushed  for  the  narrow- 
\ninded  counsel  which  he  was  obliged  to  expose. 
The  conversation  between  them  at  Northanger 
had  been  of  the  most  unfriendly  kind.  Henry's 
indignation  on  hearing  how  Catherine  had  been 
treated,  on  comprehending  his  father's  views,  and 
being  ordered  to  acquiesce  in  them,  had  been  open 
and  bold.     The  General,  accustomed  on  every  or- 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  303 

dinary  occasion  to  give  the  law  in  his  family,  pre- 
pared for  no  reluctance  but  of  feeling,  no  opposing 
desire  that  should  dare  to  clothe  itself  in  words, 
could  ill  brook  the  opposition  of  his  son,  steady  a& 
the  sanction  of  reason  and  the  dictate  of  conscience 
could  make  it.  But  in  such  a  cause  his  anger, 
though  it  must  shock,  could  not  intimidate  Heury, 
who  was  sustained  iu  his  purpose  b}'-  a  conviction 
of  its  justice.  He  felt  himself  bound  as  much  in 
honor  as  in  affection  to  Miss  Morland,  and  believ- 
ing that  heart  to  be  his  own  which  he  had  been 
directed  to  gain,  no  unworthy  retraction  of  a  tacit 
consent,  no  reversing  degree  of  unjustifiable  anger, 
could  shake  his  fidelity,  or  influence  the  resolu- 
tions it  prompted. 

He  steadily  refused  to  accompany  his  father  into 
Herefordshire,  — an  engagement  formed  almost  at 
the  moment,  to  promote  the  dismissal  of  Cather- 
ine, —  and  as  steadily  declared  his  intention  of  of- 
fering her  his  hand.  The  General  was  furious  in 
his  anger,  and  they  parted  in  dreadful  disagree- 
ment. Henry,  in  an  agitation  of  mind  which 
many  solitary  hours  were  required  to  compose,  had 
returned  almost  instantly  to  Woodston;  and  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  following  day  had  begun  his 
journey  to  Fullerton. 


304  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morland^s  surprise  on  being  ap- 
plied to  by  Mr.  Tilney  for  their  consent  to  liis 
marrying  their  daughter  was  for  a  few  minutes 
considerable,  it  having  never  entered  their  heads 
to  suspect  an  attachment  on  either  side;  but  as 
nothing,  after  all,  could  be  more  natural  than 
Catherine's  being  beloved,  they  soon  learnt  to  con- 
sider it  with  only  the  happy  agitation  of  gratified 
pride,  and,  as  far  as  they  alone  were  concerned, 
had  not  a  single  objection  to  start.  His  pleasing 
manners  and  good  sense  were  self-evident  recom- 
mendations; and  having  never  heard  evil  of 
him,  it  was  not  their  way  to  suppose  any  evil 
could  be  told.  Good-will  supplying  the  place  of. 
experience,  his  character  needed  no  attestation. 
**  Catherine  would  make  a  sad,  heedless  young 
housekeeper,  to  be  sure,"  was  her  mother's  fore- 
boding remark;  but  quick  was  the  consolation  of 
there  being  nothing  like  practice. 

There  was  but  one  obstacle,  in  short,  to  be  men- 
tioned; but  till  that  one  was  removed,  it  must  be 
impossible  for  them  to  sanction  the  engagement. 
Their  tempers  were  mild,  but  their  principles 
were  steady;  and  while  his  parent  so  expressly 
forbade  the  connection,  they  could  not  allow  them- 
selves to  encourage  it.     That  the  General  should 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  305 

come  forward  to  solicit  the  alliance,  or  that  he 
should  even  very  heartily  approve  it,  they  were 
not  refined  enough  to  make  any  parading  stipula- 
tion; but  the  decent  appearance  of  consent  must 
be  yielded,  and  that  once  obtained  —  and  their 
own  hearts  made  them  trust  that  it  could  not  be 
very  long  denied  —  their  willing  approbation  was 
instantly  to  follow.  His  consent  was  all  that  they 
wished  for.  They  were  no  more  inclined  than 
entitled  to  demand  his  money.  Of  a  very  con- 
siderable fortune,  his  son  was,  by  marriage  settle- 
ments, eventually  secure;  his  present  income  was 
an  income  of  independence  and  comfort;  and 
under  every  pecuniary  view,  it  was  a  match  be- 
yond the  claims  of  their  daughter. 

The  young  people  could  not  be  surprised  at  a 
decision  like  this.  They  felt  and  they  deplored, 
but  they  could  not  resent  it;  and  they  parted, 
endeavoring  to  hope  that  such  a  change  in  the 
General  as  each  believed  almost  impossible  might 
speedily  take  place,  to  unite  them  again  in  the 
fulness  of  privileged  affection.  Henry  returned 
to  what  was  now  his  only  home,  to  watch  over  his 
young  plantations,  and  extend  his  improvements 
for  her  sake,  to  whose  share  in  them  he  looked 
anxiously  forward;  and  Catherine  remained  at 
Pullerton  to  cry.  Whether  the  torments  of  ab- 
sence were  softened  by  a  clandestine  correspond- 
ence, let  us  not  inquire.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morland 
never  did  —  they  had  been  too  kind  to  exact  any 
promise;  and  whenever  Catherine  received  a  let- 
ter, as  at  that  time  happened  pretty  often,  they 
always  looked  another  way. 
20 


316  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

The  anxiety  which  in  this  state  of  their  attach" 
nent  must  be  the  portion  of  Henry  and  Catherine, 
and  of  all  who  love  either,  as  to  its  final  event, 
can  hardly  extend,  I  fear,  to  the  bosom  of  my 
readers,  who  will  see  in  the  tell-tale  compression 
of  the  pages  before  them,  that  we  are  all  hastening 
together  to  perfect  felicity.  The  means  by  which 
their  early  marriage  was  effected  can  be  the  only 
doubt:  what  probable  circumstance  could  work 
upon  a  temper  like  the  General's  ?  The  circum- 
stance which  chiefly  availed  was  the  marriage  of 
his  daughter  with  a  man  of  fortune  and  conse- 
quence, which  took  place  in  the  course  of  the 
summer,  —  an  accession  of  dignity  that  threw  him 
into  a  fit  of  good-humor,  from  which  he  did  not 
recover  till  after  Eleanor  had  obtained  his  forgive- 
ness of  Henry,  and  his  permission  for  him  "to  be 
a  fool  if  he  liked  it!" 

The  marriage  of  Eleanor  Tilne}^,  her  removal 
from  all  the  evils  of  such  a  home  as  Northanger, 
had  been  made  by  Henry's  banishment,  to  the 
home  of  her  choice  and  the  man  of  her  choice,  is 
an  event  which  I  exj^ect  to  give  general  satisfac- 
tion among  all  her  acquaintance.  My  own  joy  on 
the  occasion  is  very  sincere.  I  know  no  one  more 
entitled  by  unpretending  merit,  or  better  prepared 
by  habitual  suffering,  to  receive  and  enjoy  feli- 
city. Her  partiality  for  this  gentleman  was  not  of 
recent  origin;  and  he  had  been  long  withheld  only 
by  inferiority  of  situation  from  addressing  her. 
His  unexpected  accession  to  title  and  fortune  had 
removed  all  his  difficulties;  and  never  had  the 
General   loved   his    daughter   so    well    in  all    her 


NORTHANGER  ABBEY.  3D7 

hours  of  companionship,  utility,  and  patient  en- 
durance, as  when  he  first  hailed  her  "  Your  Lady- 
ship! "  Her  husband  was  really  deserving  of  her; 
independent  of  his  peerage,  his  wealth,  and  his 
attachment,  being  to  a  precision  the  most  charm- 
ing young  man  in  the  world.  Any  further  defi- 
nition of  his  merits  must  be  unnecessary;  the  most 
charming  young  man  in  the  world  is  instantly  be- 
fore the  imagination  of  us  all.  Concerning  the 
one  in  question,  therefore,  I  have  only  to  add 
(aware  that  the  rules  of  composition  forbid  the 
introduction  of  a  character  not  connected  with  my 
fable)  that  this  was  the  very  gentleman  whose 
negligent  servant  left  behind  him  that  collection 
of  washing-bills,  resulting  from  a  long  visit  at 
Northanger,  by  which  my  heroine  was  involved  in 
one  of  her  most  alarming  adventures. 

The  influence  of  the  Viscount  and  Viscountess 
in  their  brother's  behalf  was  assisted  by  that  right 
understanding  of  Mr.  Morland's  circumstances 
which,  as  soon  as  the  General  would  allow  himself 
to  be  informed,  they  were  qualified  to  give.  It 
taught  him  that  he  had  been  scarcely  more  misled 
by  Thorpe's  first  boast  of  the  family  wealth  than 
by  his  subsequent  malicious  overthrow  of  it;  that 
in  no  sense  of  the  word  were  they  necessitous  or 
poor,  and  that  Catherine  would  have  three  thou- 
sand pounds.  This  was  so  material  an  amendment 
of  his  late  expectations,  that  it  greatl}'-  contributed 
to  smooth  the  descent  of  his  pride;  and  by  no 
means  without  its  effect  was  the  private  intelli- 
gence, which  he  was  at  some  pains  to  procure, 
that   the  Fullerton  estate,   being  entirely  at  the 


308  NORTHANGER  ABBEY. 

disposal  of  its  present  proprietor,  was  consequently 
open  to  every  greedy  speculation. 

On  the  strength  of  this,  the  General,  soon  after 
Eleanor's  marriage,  permitted  his  son  to  return  to 
Northanger,  and  thence  made  him  the  hearer  of 
his  consent,  very  courteously  worded  in  a  page 
full  of  empty  professions,  to  Mr.  Morland.  The 
event  which  it  authorized  soon  followed:  Henry 
and  Catherine  were  married,  the  bells  rang,  and 
everybody  smiled;  and  as  this  took  place  within 
a  twelvemonth  from  the  first  da}'-  of  their  meeting, 
it  will  not  appear,  after  all  the  dreadful  delays 
occasioned  by  the  General's  cruelty,  that  they 
were  essentially  hurt  by  it.  To  begin  perfect 
happiness  at  the  respective  ages  of  twenty-six  and 
eighteen  is  to  do  pretty  well;  and  professing 
myself,  moreover,  convinced  that  the  General's 
unjust  interference,  so  far  from  being  really  in- 
jurious to  their  felicity,  was  perhaps  rather  con- 
ducive to  it,  by  improving  their  knowledge  of 
each  other,  and  adding  strength  to  their  attach- 
ment, I  leave  it  to  be  settled  by  whomsoever  it 
msLj  concern,  whether  the  tendency  of  this  work 
be  altogether  to  recommend  parental  tyranny,  or 
reward  filial  disobedience. 


14  DAY  USE  r 

RETUKN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED     | 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 


LD  21A-60m-3,'65 
(F2336sl0)476B 


General  Library 
University  of  Calif  on       / 
Berkeley  /: 


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